Revisiting a Big Mistake
by Lesera128
Summary: Mixing alcohol and sex can have disastrous consequences, especially when a face from the past returns with a secret that threatens Booth and Brennan's new relationship and recent marriage. Set post-"Blackout in the Blizzard."  AU.
1. Pro: Just Casual Sex?

Revisiting a Big Mistake

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: Mixing alcohol and sex can have disastrous consequences, especially when a face from the past returns with a secret that threatens Booth and Brennan's new relationship and recent marriage. Set post-"Blackout in the Blizzard." Very AU.

A/N: Having learned from past mistakes by now, I guess this is the part where I need to set some things up for readers. So, here goes... I like to tell stories. I like to tell interesting stories. I know in advance where this plot is going. If you want to keep reading, cool. If not, happy fic hunting. For those who are reading this and don't know by now, I have never written a story where Booth and Brennan didn't end up together someway, somehow. I always label my stories properly, even if it seems like things don't make much sense at the start. My writing's like that… slow to build, but then very, very fast once you reach the culmination and dénouement. This story will contain the following: drama, mystery, romance, angst (some, althought not a horrible amount, and definitely not to the levels of my other stories, but conflict drives plot!), not too much on the fluff, but definitely yes, on the sex (as you will see if you scroll down a bit). This story assumes that all the canon events that happened up to and including season 6's episode 6x16 "The Blackout in the Blizzard." Yes, that does include Maluku, Afghanistan, Hannah, Lauren Eames, the proposal, the ultimatum, and the elevator talk. After that, since I am the Queen of Bones' AU fan fics, it firmly veers off into AU-land (to quote Dr. Emmett Brown) after they burned the dates on pieces of paper, an event interrupted the original time line from that point forward, creating a new reality that diverged from canon at that point in time. Still here? Okay, good. I hate long author's notes at the beginning of fics, and this one is already long enough as is. Let's get cracking….~

* * *

><p>Prologue – Just Casual Sex?<p>

* * *

><p><span>MARCH 2011<span>

It was wrong, and he knew it. But, he was selfish and wanted to do it anyway.

It had been so long since he did something like this… did something just to *feel* good. Besides, it would be fun, and if there was one thing he hadn't done in a long time it was something *fun*. Being responsible? What had that gotten him? A broken heart, that was what. But, now things were starting to get better. Time did that. But, so many responsibilities still weighed on him, demanded his time. He rarely took time for himself anymore. He was serious, too serious, and it was time he changed that fact. Even if it was just for one night, even if it was just for a few hours, he *needed* to do *something* that was *different*. And, besides… she was pretty. Hell, she'd always been pretty. From the very first time he had ever seen her, he thought she was one of the hottest women he'd ever seen. So, yes… he was handsome, she was beautiful, and for once, they both deserved to have some fun. He was so tired of fighting against his nature. He was selfish – always had been, always would be. It was time he stopped pretending otherwise, and take a chance. He was good at doing that, running at the ridge for all he was worth. He'd forgotten that somehow over the past few years. It was time he remembered and gave things a shot.

The wood of the bar seemed cool to the touch of his palm. Cool and smooth. He pressed his hands firmly up against the edge of the wood as he stood. Signaling the bartender, he only waited a moment before getting the younger man's attention. After all, he *was* a regular here, having spent a lot of money over the countless hours he'd spent drinking at the bar since he'd moved to DC.

Smiling, he nodded in the direction of the woman that sat just a little bit away from him.

Purposely raising his voice's tone so that it could be heard over the din of the loud bar, he told the bartender, "Whatever the lady's drinking, the next one's on my tab."

At this, she inclined her head at him with a curious look. She didn't know why he was acting this way… different from how he normally behaved. She knew him well enough to know that he was rarely this… animated. But, it *had* been a long night… and her date had stood her up. A lot of that had seemed to be happening… since… well, since that night in the rain. Her luck, if she believed in luck, had been rotten. But, seeing him here almost seemed… providential. And, so, even though they had spent most of the past few hours in silence, she inclined her head at him as the bartender returned with a glass of red wine.

"Thanks!" she called to him. "You didn't have to do that. But, it was sweet, so thank you."

"My pleasure," he grinned, raising his glass of scotch to her in a salute before quickly downing its contents.

Somehow over the course of the next several hours, a blur of events passed by his eyes. Now *this* he remembered. This part was one of the things he loved best about not having to be the responsible one, not having to try to live up to expectations and be perfect. Yes, he remembered this feeling, and he really, *really* liked it.

But, the other images now playing in his mind wouldn't be there in the morning... no, not really.

He wouldn't remember that it had started to rain earlier in the evening, and then, at some point, the rain turned to this irritating type of slush that wasn't either rain or snow, but annoyingly in between. He wouldn't remember how easily he started to laugh at her very bad jokes as his inhibitions continued to disappear (thankfully!). He also wouldn't recall the fact that she didn't break his arm when he leaned in from where he sat next to her on his bar stool and put his hand on her hip. He also wouldn't remember the look of surprise she gave him when he moved his hand from her hip down to her ass as he copped a feel. And, he wouldn't remember how the idea to call a cab had been hers or that she was the one who paid for it when they went back to his apartment.

The only part that he *might* later admit that he regretted was that, in the morning, he wouldn't clearly and precisely remember the first time they had finally slept together.

At the time, though, he thought he had been a fairly masterful lover. As soon as they staggered into his apartment, the door slamming shut between them as they shed various pieces of clothing en route to his bed, he thanked God that he was so skillful at multitasking. Her lips were soft, much softer than he thought they'd be. He'd spent enough time looking at them over the past few months. But, what surprised him the most was her hair. It was long and shiny and soft and smelled good. Her hair smelled like… flowers. Girl flowers. But, in a good way. He'd been surprised by that. She didn't seem like the type who'd favor such a frivolous type of shampoo. He'd always pictured her as more… practical. But, there it was… her hair smelled like girl flowers… and it turned him on in a way he hadn't been turned on in a long, long time.

For her part, she was as eager as him for what both knew was going to happen in fairly short order. He was good looking, and always had been, and she hadn't gotten laid in a very, very long time it seemed. And, the way he looked at her, it was *almost* as if she could imagine it was the way she might really have been looked at if this was happening for any other reason than the fact that he was drunk, she had been stood up, both of them were interested, unattached (although not by either one's preference or choice), in the same place at the same time, and in desperate need of a good fuck. But, for now, his look was close enough to the one that she really wanted to see that she could pretend it was real. And, so, aggressive as she usually was where sexual gratification was concerned, she took the lead once they staggered into his apartment.

They were able to divest themselves of their clothing in fairly short order. Along the way, they continued to kiss, lick, touch, and tease – although neither one of them really needed the extra stimulation. By the time she was pushing him onto the bed, both of them were quite ready for what naturally came next in the logical progression of such events. He seemed content to let her control the pace of things as he moved toward the center of the bed, and she followed. Straddling his naked hips, moving her hand just a bit to adjust things so that it was perfect, when she thrust herself down on top of him, it was very, very gratifying. It only took her three or four movements before she felt herself tightening around him, not calling out his name, but unable to help herself as she did let out an involuntary moan of satisfaction. For his part, he needed just a bit more, and didn't bother to wait for her to come back to her senses as the after effects of her orgasm still made coherent thought a bit difficult to achieve. Rolling them over so that he was on top and able to pump into her at a more controlled angle, it was only a minute or two later that his grunts gave way to a gasp of his own relief. Sweaty and tired and ready to sleep, he rolled away from her quickly. While both of them lay next to each other, trying to regain their breaths, neither saying a word, nor either one realizing at the time that, in their haste, they had not bothered with a condom.

The next morning, he awoke with a bitch of a hangover, his head feeling like it was wrapped in a thick swath of cotton bandages. He did remember some vague recollection of the previous evening's happenings when he realized that upon waking up, he wasn't alone in his usually cold bed. He would later recall how warm she felt then, pliable limbs entangled with his, her long hair draped over his pillows. He would also recall how she gave him this soft smile of greeting when she woke up to find him staring at her in wonder. She hadn't left. It hadn't been a dream. And, for some reason, he was unusually and inexplicably pleased by that fact.

Despite his hangover, he seemed more than ready and willing to acquiesce to her overtures when she came closer, pulled him on top of her, and initiated another excellent round of very satisfying morning sex. And, once again, neither one of them bothered to notice that they had again neglected to use any type of contraception. A few hours later, when he awoke a second time, his head still pounding, but hurting just a little less than before, this time he did wake up alone. His bed was cold, and he was alone, and she was gone.

Going out into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee, he didn't immediately see the hastily scribbled note on a torn piece of notebook paper that sat on the counter. However, after the coffee started to brew, he had downed two aspirin and a couple of big glasses of water, he finally noticed the note. And, when he read it, he smiled a smile that his entire family was known for… even if no one was there to see it.

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	2. Ch 1: They Did Get Married

Revisiting a Big Mistake

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: Mixing sex and alcohol can have disastrous consequences, especially when a face from the past returns with a secret that threatens Booth and Brennan's new relationship and recent marriage. Set post-"Blackout in the Blizzard." Very AU.

* * *

><p>Chapter 1 – They Did Get Married<p>

* * *

><p><span>SEPTEMBER 2011<span>

Dr. Temperance Brennan awoke to a wonderful feeling. Soft sheets caressed her sensitive skin while the pleasing touch of a down comforter cocooned her in a welcoming nest of warmth. The first rays of the morning sun had just started to peak through the blinds of the bedroom window, casting inconsistent illumination in corners that started to pierce the shadows of the darkened room. However, upon awaking, Brennan found the most please sensation of them all when she saw herself greeted by the peacefully sleeping form of her partner. He lay only a few inches from her side, legs intertwined with hers and an arm sprawled haphazardly over her hip. During the course of the night, one of them had eventually gravitated towards the additional source of warmth in the bed, and they pair had somehow entangled themselves. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, Brennan decided, all things considered - even though she was still getting used to the experience of waking up on more mornings with Booth's company than on days when she didn't.

Yes, Booth was still asleep, and Brennan found that she loved watching him in unguarded moments like this. Asleep, he looked much, much younger than he usually appeared. The normal lines that creased his forehead during his waking moments had disappeared, and his mouth had settled into a small smile of contentment as he slept. Blinking once or twice, Brennan stifled a yawn. She lifted her head to glance at the alarm clock to see what time it was. As she shifted, Brennan tried not to disturb Booth, but knew she had failed in her task when his arm tightened around her hip and reached to pull her towards him.

"It's too early," he said softly.

Booth had slept on his side and awoke in that position. When Brennan let herself be pulled next to him, she found that she fit quite well in the hollow formed by his body molding to hers. Luxuriating in the wonderfully protective feeling of his tightened arm slung down over her side with his hand coming to lay flat against the soft skin of her naked stomach, Brennan smiled. Booth's eyes remained closed, and Brennan wasn't sure if he was still awake or had fallen back asleep after his simple pronouncement. Turning her head to look slightly over her shoulder, Brennan chuckled when Booth next spoke.

"I still don't get why you like watching me when I sleep," he said, eyes still closed.

"Think of it as an exercise in processing data. It's still a relatively new experience for me, and I love being able to collect all the information about you that I can. I want to know everything, you know," Brennan said.

"I've got to think that's an incredibly boring research project as compared to your normal standards, Bones. I'm just not that interesting," Booth replied.

Feeling slightly playful, Brennan said, "Yes, well, I'm not saying that I agree with you, because I don't - I find you extremely fascinating as an object of study-"

"I'm a science project now, huh?"

"-But, if I did, what you lack in interesting details you more than compensate for with your physical attributes and other skills."

A grin broke Booth's face at her words, although he still kept his eyes closed. "So, is this your way of telling me that you only married me for my body and the fact that I'm a sexual god?"

Feeling the need to see him, Brennan shifted so that she could roll over and face him. Booth opened his eyes at her movement and watched her curiously.

"Good morning," she said, leaning in for a kiss.

"Morning, Bones," Booth said, as she pressed her lips to his.

The kiss started to deepen very quickly before Brennan pulled back. Booth tried to lean in again to initiate a new kiss, but Brennan chuckled as she pulled away. He began to pout when he saw the teasing smile on her face that had settled there.

"I find," Brennan began, lifting her hand to cup his cheek, "That I agreed to marry you-"

"Hey!" Booth protested. "You're the one who proposed to me, as I recall, Bones."

Shaking her head, Brennan said, "No, I believe you're the one who proposed to me after I told you that I would say 'yes' if you ever asked me."

"No," Booth countered. "You're the one who brought up the whole marriage idea."

"Well, yes, I did," Brennan admitted. "But-"

"No 'buts', Bones," Booth chuckled. "You're the one who asked me."

"I refuse to concede that point, Booth. But, in the interests of completing my original thought, I'll simply say that I proceeded to go through with our marriage for *several* different reasons, Booth - all of which go far beyond your expertise as a lover. However, I can't deny the fact that your excellent physique and your sexual process have only been added benefits for me of our decision to formalize our mutually exclusive, long-term monogamous relationship."

"Mmmm," Booth said. "So, does that mean that you won't hold it against me if I admit the real reason I agreed to your proposal was so that I could finally get you into bed since *you* do have such an incredibly sexy body?"

Brennan considered his words for a moment before she replied, "I've always been well aware of the fact that you've been physically attracted to me and thought I was 'hot' since the very first time we met, Booth. However, I like to think that after all this time, particularly since you've been 'getting' me 'into bed' for more than six months, that you realize that formalizing our relationship within the bounds of legal matrimony has other… added perks."

"Such as?" he teased.

"Such as the fact that now, every day for the reason of our lives, we can wake up in the same bed and know that neither one of us is going to go anywhere," Brennan said. "I find that idea to be both novel and refreshing."

At this, Booth arched an eyebrow at her. "Why, Bones… if I didn't know better, I'd say you just said something that was almost… sentimental."

"This early in the morning, particularly after yesterday's unanticipated events, I do find that I am more inclined than normal to indulge in what you would describe as 'sentimental' thoughts, Booth. Does that unsettle you?" Brennan asked.

Shaking his head, Booth smiled and answered, "Bones, when you agreed to be my wife, you pretty much ensured that I could never really be unsettled by anything ever again."

Moving her hand from where it rested against his cheek to caress the smooth and warm skin of his shoulder, Brennan stopped mid-motion as the sparkle of the diamond on her ring caught the light. She lifted her hand in front of her and moved it slightly in several directions to look more closely at the ring that adorned her finger.

"I know that from a geological and optical point of view, the refraction of the light by the diamond is a scientific process. However, perhaps because I'm in such a 'sentimental' mood, as you said, Booth, I find that I very much like looking at my ring and seeing it on my finger this morning, knowing that you put it there. When I look at it, it just feels… *right*," Brennan said.

"Hmmm. Careful, there, Bones. I think you just said something that was based off of an instinct?" Booth teased.

Nodding, Brennan said, "I believe you would call it a 'gut feeling'."

Booth chuckled as he said, "My, my… how the mighty have fallen, Bones. To think, the logical and rational Dr. Temperance Brennan has been reduced to sentimentality and relying on her 'gut' to tell her things. It's crazy, Bones, just crazy."

"And, why is that, Booth? I can evolve just as easily as others can and change the way I react to the world," Brennan said defensively. "Or, do you think the woman you married is just some simple rigid automaton unable to change over time?"

"I think the woman I married still can't take a joke sometimes," Booth said, looking at her. "You're getting better, but sometimes the sarcasm still goes way over that brilliant head of yours."

"You were teasing me again?"

He nodded.

Frowning a bit, Brennan gave him a playful push as she said, "Don't make fun of me, Booth. You know I hate it when you tease me life that."

"I can't help it, Bones. You're just such an easy mark sometimes." Booth said. Reaching for her hand, Booth intertwined his fingers with hers. Lowering it to their eye levels so they both could see the sparkle of the diamond, Booth nodded at her and said, "Do you really like it?"

"I find the idea that, while the ring's setting was your mother's, since you gave Jared the diamond for Padme when they got engaged last year and had to buy a new one for me, it is an appropriate blending of old and new. Tradition and modernity," Brennan offered.

"So, that's a yes?" Booth said.

Brennan slowly nodded. "Yes, I love it. Very much so. Just like I love you, Booth."

"Well, that's a good thing then, Bones, seeing as how it's a little late in case you didn't and were having second thoughts about everything. I know Hodgins would have had his little company grunt filing those papers first thing this morning to make us all official. It's too late to back out now, you know? You're stuck with me," Booth said.

At last, leaning in to kiss him, Brennan smiled. "And, I wouldn't have it any other way, Booth."

* * *

><p><em>Twenty-four Hours Earlier…..<em>

"Speech! Speech! Speech!" Booth chanted at Brennan, making her give him a look of chiding remonstrance.

Jack Hodgins and Angela Montenegro glanced at each other knowingly as Brennan frowned at Booth.

"Booth, since it's just the four of us, perhaps you could lower your voice to a more reasonable decibel for those of us who aren't hard of hearing?" Brennan said.

Turning to Angela, Booth said, "Did she just make a joke?"

Angela laughed, and said, "I think she just did."

"I'm quite amusing that way," Brennan smiled.

Shaking his head, Booth said, "So, you gonna get to it, Bones, or what? I'm starving here, and I want some cake."

Sighing a mock sigh, Brennan stood and smiled as Jack and Angela. "I know I said I didn't want anyone making a big deal out of my birthday this year, and despite the fact that you both conspired with Booth in the kidnapping that's resulted in me coming to stand before you all on the commemorative anniversary of the day on which I came into this world, I find I'm very happy you did. I also appreciate that you tried to keep things on a small scale in keeping with the sentiment of my original wishes. However, since it's just the four of us here, family sharing good food, good wine, and—"

"Cake!" Booth interrupted. "We could get to sharing some great cake if you'd hurry up on the long-winded rant there, Bones."

"You were the one who just said you wanted me to make a speech!" Brennan countered.

"Ir was a figure of speech, Bones. I sorta meant something more along the lines of 'Thanks for the dinner and cake. I'm surprised and love it. Let's have eat.' Not the Gettysburg Address or a Shakespearean monologue," Booth complained.

"First, Shakespeare tended to write his soliloquies in iambic pentameter, and I rarely speak in any type of measured rhyme, Booth," Brennan began.

Deciding that drastic times called for drastic measures, Booth got out of his chair and walked over to where Brennan was standing in front of her cake. The candles had already started to melt, as Booth took his spoon and grabbed a large amount of frosting from the edge of the cake. Taking the spoon, when Brennan opened her mouth to take a breath before continuing on in her wordy retort, Booth took the frosting covered utensil and shoved it in her mouth.

"Oh, and look at that, will ya? She's all done," Booth said, grinning at Brennan, and then nodding at Angela and Hodgins. "How about that? Let's sing now before the cake is just a big pile of wax and melted frosting, huh?"

Brennan grabbed the spoon, removed it from her mouth, and swallowed the frosting. She glared at Booth, as Jack and Angela laughed. However, when the three of them began to sing 'Happy Birthday', Brennan decided to file away Booth's offensive behavior for a later date when she would be able to exact more appropriate retributions when it was just the two of them. As her trio of friends had almost finished singing, Brennan took a deep breath at the end of the song, and in honor of the age-old tradition, she bent down to take care of her birthday cake's candles. Brennan closed her eyes and blew them out in one huge gust of air. Booth started to snicker when Brennan, looking very pleased with herself at seeing the candles all go out in one breath, started to relight.

Brennan again scowled at Booth. "Please tell me you didn't—"

Three more candles automatically relight, joining the six that were already burning once more, as she spoke. Booth grinned widely as he nodded. "Oh, yeah, I did. The cake was my job, after all, Bones."

Sighing, Brennan reached for a cup of water and dampened her fingers as she started to wet the wicks of the offensive candles.

"Hey, that's cheating!" Booth complained.

"Deal with it," Brennan muttered.

Angela and Hodgins looked on in the amused silence. Once she had finished, when the candles had been doused and removed, Brennan began to cut the cake. She handed a piece to Jack and then to Angela, and then leaned over to give one to Booth.

Looking down at the slice of cake, Booth said, "Hey. Why's my piece so smaller than everyone else's?"

"Because," Brennan said. Lowering her voice to a whisper, Brennan said, "You've been a very bad boy, and bad boys don't deserve to be rewarded with excessive desserts."

"Mmmm hmmm," Booth said. "And, are we talking about the cake here, Bones... or you?"

Caught a bit off guard by his blatant rejoinder to her sly quip, Brennan quickly recovered. "That's for me to know and for you to find out. However, as far as the cake is concerned, just so you know, I seriously contemplated taking this piece of cake and shoving it in your face, Booth."

"Mmmm," Booth said. "Sounds like fun. How about we save that for later, ehh, Bones?" He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

Sighing in amused exasperation, Brennan shook her head, grabbed her own cake and moved to sit down as she muttered, "Promises, promises."

Booth bit back a chuckle, as he began to eat his own cake while Angela and Hodgins had already dug into theirs.

After a few minutes, at last, Angela broke the silence that had fallen over the table as she said, "So, did you make a wish, sweetie?"

"Of course," Brennan said. "I realize it is superstitious, and in no way actually beneficial, because there is no way that such an action can result in a physical manifestation of the request made, but in the name of tradition, I did make one, yes. My mom always insisted on it when I was a little girl, so I never forget to do it."

"What'd you wish for, Dr. B?" Hodgins said.

"Oh, that's easy," Booth said, with a laugh. "She probably wished for some new super squint bone toy. Am I right, Bones? What about that one that you read about in that article that you rambled on about for two months over the summer? What was it called? You know, the one I couldn't get you to shut up about when you read that the patent had finally be approved?"

"Do you mean for the Maxton bifurcated advanced osteological surface imaging scanner?" Hodgins said, a hint of excitement already coming into his voice.

"Oh, no. Not you too?" Booth cringed.

Hodgins grinned as Angela looked at Booth and nodded with a painful look on her face.

"Him, too," Angela confirmed.

"How can you possibly remember all that?" Booth said.

"Because it's the Maxton bifurcated advanced osteological surface imaging scanner?" Hodgins said, as if the name were obviously enough to explain Booth's question merely by itself.

Brennan nodded, smiling. "Yes. I've already talked with Cam about ordering one as soon as they go into production, Hodgins, but we probably won't get ours before December."

"Oh, cool," Hodgins said. "I love—"

Booth groaned again as Hodgins and Brennan began an animated exchange about the new lab tool. Turning to Angela he said, "If we don't cut them off now, it will be squint-speak for the rest of the night."

Angela nodded. "You want to or shall I?"

Booth put his fingers to his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. Brennan and Hodgins stopped talking and looked up as Booth said, "Oi! Icks-nay on the squint speak, okay? This is a party, after all."

"Sorry, Booth," Brennan said. "But, you are the one who brought it up."

"Yeah, well, let's just skip that part," Booth said. "So, besides the fact that Bones wasted a birthday wish on something lame like a bone scanner…."

"I didn't wish for the Maxton bifurcated advanced osteological surface imaging scanner," Brennan interrupted.

"Oh?" Angela asked. "Then what did you wish for?"

"She can't say," Booth protested immediately. "If she tells us, it won't come true."

"Why not, Booth? I find that notion makes an already superfluous superstitious belief to be even more silly than it already is. Besides, I think what I wished for would be quite surprising to all three of you, especially you, Booth, if you know what it is," Brennan said. "So, I want to answer Angela's question."

"Oh?" Booth said. "In that case, do tell, Bones."

"All right," she said. "But, only if I can preface it by saying on a slightly unrelated note that I think my wish could finally put the old adage to rest, once and for all, that Hodgins really does have enough money to make anything he wants happen if and when he wants to do so."

"I'm intrigued, Dr. B. You have a challenge for me?" Hodgins grinned, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"Of a sort, yes," Brennan said. Although she was speaking at Hodgins, Brennan was looking at Booth when she said, "I think that as two of our closest friends, it's no secret to both you and Angela that Booth and I have been engaging in a sexual relationship for several months, Hodgins—"

"Bones," Booth began to wince. "Why are you bringing that up now?"

"Because," Brennan said. "It has to do with my wish. If I don't make certain to specify that fact, I find that it may make the surprising nature of my wish even more shocking."

At this, Angela laughed. "Okay. Now, this is getting interesting, Bren. Tell us, what did you wish for?"

"Give me just a sec, Ange. I need to say one more thing before I tell you what I wished for," Brennan said. Turning her head back to Booth she said, "Now, as I was saying, you all know that Booth and I have been more than just professional partners since that blizzard in March forced us to confront lingering issues of a personal nature that had been festering for some months. You may also have some knowledge of the fact that Booth has developed somewhat of a phobia surrounding the idea of marriage since his two previous attempts to get the woman he was interested in marrying at the time to accept his proposals failed—"

Booth's mouth instantly opened to protest her words from several different angles when Brennan reached out a hand, and prepared, gave Booth an imploring look. "Please, let me finish."

Hearing the change in the tone of her voice as it softened, Booth's mouth snapped closed. Reluctantly, he nodded for Brennan to continue.

"Now, I'm not bringing this up to embarrass you, Booth. I just… everyone wants to know what my wish was when I blew out the candles? Well, that was it. I wished that you would one day be able to conquer that phobia and be able to ask me that question."

"What question-"

"The question as to if I would be willing to agree to participate in a legally binding ceremony with you that would result in me gaining the title of being your wife," Brennan said.

Booth's eyes widened in shock. Angela and Hodgins also felt similar responses register on their faces, but wisely said nothing.

"Wife?" Booth finally managed to stutter.

"Yes," Brennan said. "My wish was for you to be able to, one day, I hope, be able to verbalize to me your desire to get married... to me. Now, I know that it seems very sudden, and I know also that you probably find it uncomfortable with me broaching a personal subject somewhat publicly in front of Angela and Hodgins, but I'm going with my 'gut' on this one. I know you'd never ask me yourself, given your past negative experiences in the matter and because you think I'd say 'no'."

"And, you wouldn't?" Booth intoned.

"A year ago, if you had, I probably would have," Brennan said. "But, now? These past six months have made me realize exactly how much I've always loved you, and the idea of not being with you in every way possible... it makes me physically ill when I contemplate it. So, I'm telling you now, in front of witnesses, what I wished for… what I want… if and when you're ever ready for it? I want you to be able to ask me to marry you so that was can get married... if and when you're ready, Booth."

His eyes still growing larger at each word she said, Booth thought for a moment that Brennan had begun to speak in tongues as the foreign words were not being processed by his brain correctly. Angela and Hodgins also still seemed to have been shocked into silence.

Nodding confidently at Hodgins, Brennan said, "That having been said, if and when Booth was ever ready to be in a position to extend such a proposal as the one I have described and 'make us legal', my challenge to you, Hodgins, would be to see how quickly we could make it happen. I find that, upon completion of my extensive contemplation of the entire subject, the idea of a long proposal and going through the tedium of formal bridal rituals greatly displeases me. A wedding isn't the important part,as far as I'm concerned, the marriage is… so, that's what I wished for, in case anyone was wondering." Brennan moved to sit down, and she reached for her fork and began to take a bite of cake. Her chewing was the only sound in the room for several seconds besides the sound of each person's breathing.

After about a minute, Booth's brain finally caught up with itself, and confirmed to the accuracy of the original interpretation it had given him about Brennan's words. Not caring that Angela and Hodgins were watching, Booth stood and came to kneel in front of Brennan's chair.

"I'm not going to ask you if you're serious about this," Booth said. "I know you know what this topic means to me and that you'd never make a joke about it."

"I wouldn't," Brennan confirmed solemnly, setting down her fork.

"So, the only question I need to ask besides the obvious one then is… are you sure?" Booth said.

Nodding, Brennan said, "I believe I just said that, 'yes', Booth. I wouldn't have made the earlier announcement of my overall preference on the matter unless I had complete confidence in my choice."

"You want me to ask you to marry me?" Booth asked, the surprise and disbelief still clearly evident in his voice.

"Yes."

"As in, you want me to ask you a question that, if you say yes, means that we'll get married."

"Yes."

"You, Dr. Temperance Brennan, want to marry me?"

"Yes, Booth!" Brennan said, becoming a bit frustrated. "I can understand your sense of disbelief necessitating confirmation on the subject, but don't you think four times is a bit much? I won't change my mind no matter how many times you ask me, no matter how many different ways you change the verbiage."

"So what you're really saying here, then, is that you really want to be my wife?

"If that's you're way of proposing to me, then I don't know how else to let you know, but my answer is 'YES'!" Brennan said, emphatically. Booth stared at her, and Brennan stared back, a bit surprised at herself over the strength of her outburst. A bit sheepishly she added, "That is, my answer would be 'yes'... if you were asking me, just to be clear."

Grinning the widest smile Brennan had ever seen, Booth's eyes light up and dramatically changed the look of his normally somber face.

"Oh, we're clear, Bones. Crystal." Reaching up, Booth leaned in to kiss her.

After a moment, Booth spun to Hodgins, and said, "So, can you help us?"

"Help you what?" Hodgins said, shaking his head, a dazed look still on his face. "I'm sorry, dude. I'm still a bit hung up on the part where Dr. B said she wanted to get married."

"Yeah," Booth agreed. "That makes two of us." He then said, "Can you help us make this happen?"

"Sure," Hodgins said. "When?"

"Now," Booth said, looking at Brennan for confirmation. She nodded, and Booth repeated, "Right now."

Hodgins, his eyes still wide, nodded. "I, ah… I need to make a couple of calls, but yeah. Let me get Amanda on it. It might take a couple of hours to get the license, but if we go through the back channels with some friends I have in Virginia, there's no waiting limit. We can get the license, and Amanda's a notary. She can do it… if that's what you want, yeah."

Booth opened his mouth to say something when suddenly the air was shattered with a high pitched and loud squeal. Booth, Brennan, and Hodgins suddenly looked to where Angela was sitting… and noticed that her delayed reaction had gone from surprise to euphoria.

"Married!" she yelled. "You're eloping!"

"Well, yes, Ange. I believe that is what Booth and Hodgins and I were just discussing," Brennan said, matter-of-factly.

Bouncing out of her seat, Angela ran towards Brennan and enveloped her into a very tight hug. She then quickly released Brennan and did the same thing to Booth. The friends watched the still relatively new mother with interest and wondered how much of her response had been exacerbated by her fluctuating hormones.

Eyes shining in happy excitement, Angela said, "Hallelujah! It's about damn time you two got your heads on straight and facing the same way at the same time. Congratulations."

"Thanks, Ange," Booth said. "I think."

Turning to her husband, Angela said, "Jack?"

"Yes, Ange?"

"Go call Amanda. Make those obnoxious Cantilever funds personally useful for once, huh?" Angela said.

Taking out his cell phone with a smile, Hodgins said dutifully, "Yes, dear."

Spinning on her heels, Angela pointed at Booth and Brennan as she said, "And, as for you two, you've got two hours to go home, change, and pack a bag. You're staying at the estate tonight. I don't know what kind of bridal suite I can come up with in two hours, but I love a challenge. Now, off, you go!"

* * *

><p>Glancing down at the sparkle of her ring's diamond, Brennan said, "Hodgins's jeweler really did a beautiful job on such short notice. I know Angela wasn't pleased that it took us more than two hours as she specified, but I think it was worth it."<p>

Looking down at the dull glint of the thin band of gold that shined on his own ring finger, Booth shook his head as he said, "Yeah, it was… it's just, I still can't believe all that's happened in the past twenty-four hours, you know?"

"It is a lot of change to process in such a short amount of time," Brennan agreed warily. She paused and then said, "Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"You sure you're happy about this?" Brennan asked. "You don't regret anything we did, do you?"

Turning to her, Booth smiled a truly genuine smile that metaphorically melted Brennan's heart. Nodding, he said, "I've never been happier a day in my life except for when Parker was born, Bones."

"Really?" she asked.

"Yes, really," he said. "Do you want me to prove it to you?"

"Although I believe our activities last night sufficiently satisfied the requisite sexual activity needed to consummate a marriage in the eyes of the law, as I have always been an over achiever, I would not be adverse to—"

Brennan's words were cut off as Booth leaned over and pressed his lips to her hungrily. Leaning back into the bed, it didn't take long before the kiss deepened, their tongues were wrestling, and they had managed to make a fair amount of progress towards transitioning from enjoyable foreplay to satisfying their sexual urges. Booth had just rolled so that he was on top of Brennan and groaned once in a very satisfying moan of pleasure as he felt her slick warmth pull tightly against him when his cell phone began to ring.

Brennan, eyes hazy and dark with unsatisfied lust, reached for his hands and interlocked her fingers with his. "Don't even think about it, Booth," Brennan breathed, arching her back at the same time Booth pulled out slightly and began to lean into her again.

"Might be i-important," he groaned, tightening his grip as he squeezed her hands with his.

"Ohhhh," Brennan murmured. "It'll still be important in five minutes." Raising her hips forward as Booth pushed down once more into her, Brennan whimpered slightly. "Booootthhh," she moaned.

Quickening his pace, Booth could feel her tightening around him in a wonderfully anticipatory manner. He wisely followed the counsel of his new wife as he ignored the cell phone, which eventually did stop ringing. The pair continued a back and forth, give and take, as each one was pushed a little closer to finally letting themselves go over the edge. Booth was so far gone by the time the cell phone rang again, three or four rings had already gone unanswered when he finally realized that it was a second call and not still the first one.

"Fuck—" he muttered.

"Don't," Brennan moaned. "Oh, please don't get the fucking phone. Leave it."

Torn between dueling priorities and conflicting duties, Booth took one look at the phone vibrating on the night stand and then at Brennan, sweaty and flushed and glowing with unfulfilled anticipation because of *him* as she wore *his* wedding ring of her finger… and the image of Brennan won. It took only a minute or two more before she climaxed, peaking before he did, although Booth wasn't that far behind her. Not meaning to collapse on top of her, Booth almost pinned her beneath his massive weight when she refused to unclasp his hands from hers.

"No," she breathed into his ears. "Stay for a minute. Like this."

"I'm crushing you, Bones," he breathed.

"No, you're not. And, I like it," she said, enjoying the feel of being almost completely covered by a one-of-a-kind Booth blanket.

He smiled, and given the simple nature of the request, Booth couldn't find any good reason not to fulfill it. Leaning in to a press a light kiss against the soft skin of her throat, Booth started to feel a euphoric sense of contentment wash over him when the cell phone began to ring for a third time. Looking down at her apologetically, he heard Brennan sigh heavily as he rolled away from her and over to grab the phone. Reaching for it, Booth smiled sheepishly at Brennan, as she sat up and pulled the sheet around her chest, and answered.

Scowling in annoyance, Brennan contemplated the best way in which she might metaphorically eviscerate whichever FBI agent and/or technician was calling to interrupt them on *this* day of all days. However, Brennan's plans to exact retribution on the FBI disappeared when she noticed Booth's coloring pale and his brow furrow in extreme agitation. She couldn't tell much of what was going on as Booth only muttered a few one word-questions and responses like "What?" – "Where?" – "When?" – "No." – "No." - "Yes." and "Twenty minutes."

Moving out of the bed while he had continued talking, Booth quickly began to grab what clothing the pair had discarded in the lustful activities the previous night after their impromptu elopement. Pulling on his boxers and jeans, Brennan watched in concern. She knew by the simple change in his mood, whatever the call was about, it wasn't related to a case. Her guess was confirmed when Booth growled a final clipped word of goodbye, hit the 'end' button on the phone, and then threw it on the bed.

Reaching down for his shoes, Booth moved and sat down as he hastily pulled them on. Brennan let the sheet drop and came up on her knees behind Booth's back. She placed both her arms around his still naked shoulders.

"What is it?" she asked softly.

"Fucking Jared," Booth grunted. "He's at Georgetown Memorial."

"What happened?" Brennan asked, her concern increasing which each word Booth spoke. "Is he-?"

"He's alive," Booth said spitefully. "They're just taking him there for treatment before bringing him to one of the DC precincts for processing."

"He wasn't-?" Brennan asked, but Booth interrupted with a curt nod.

"Driving drunk again? Yeah, he was. And, now I have to go bail the stupid son-of-a-bitch out," Booth muttered. "He was in an accident on 95 near the beltway exit. He was drunk, and he called me, and now I have to leave you on what's, for all intensive purposes, our goddamn honeymoon, because Jared's still feeling sorry for himself since the break up. Fuck!" Booth roared.

Brennan felt the anger building in Booth. She continued to hug him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Don't worry. It'll be all right."

"Stupid, fucking—STUPID!" Booth yelled in frustration.

"Don't worry," Brennan repeated again.

At her soft words, a bit of the rage fell away from Booth as he looked over his shoulder at her and said, "I'm sorry I have to go. But, I promise I'll come back as soon as I can."

"Don't apologize," Brennan said. "It's not necessary."

"Why's that? Even if it's not my fault I have to leave, it's still my fault that I'm related to as big an idiot as Jared's been since Padme left him," Booth muttered.

At this, Brennan inclined her head and said, "I'll have to think about the implication of that assessment before I can decide whether I agree or disagree with it. In the mean time, no apologies are necessary about you having to leave because I am coming with you."

Booth looked at her and shook his head. "Bones, you don't have to—"

"I know," Brennan said. "But, this is the type of thing that a wife does for her husband, right?"

Considering her words, Booth finally said, "Yeah, I guess."

"Good," Brennan said, pulling away from him and sliding out of the bed herself. "Then, no apologies are necessary, because I'm coming, and I want to come, and that's that."

As Brennan bent to begin retrieving her own clothing, Booth couldn't help but smile and breath a silent prayer of thanks because, if he had been burdened with the task of a needy and frustrating brother, he truly had been blessed with a loving, beautiful, and truly giving wife. And, from a certain perspective, Booth knew that, given the choice, he wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	3. Ch 2: Bailing on a Bad Situation

Revisiting a Big Mistake

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: Mixing sex and alcohol can have disastrous consequences, especially when a face from the past returns with a secret that threatens Booth and Brennan's new relationship and recent marriage. Set post-"Blackout in the Blizzard." Very AU.

* * *

><p>Chapter 2 – Bailing on a Bad Situation<p>

* * *

><p>A young receptionist, no more than twenty-five, immediately knew that the goodlooking brunette was not just one's average, ordinary hospital visitor seeking information about a lved one, despite the fact that he was casually dressed in a well-loved U2 Joshua Tree tour t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and black leather jacket. No, she thought, looks could be deceiving, and for this individual, she knew - here was a man with a purpose and used to getting his way about things, particularly when he was in search of information. The receptionist's thoughts were confirmed when he took out his identification, and a familiar dull gleam of metal flashed in the woman's eyes.<p>

"Excuse me, can you tell me where I can find Jared Booth?"

Waving his badge at the hospital receptionist in the emergency room of Georgetown Memorial Hospital, Seeley Booth waited for the young woman to look up from her computer. Smiling at him, she nodded at the badge and began to type in an attempt to obtain an answer to his query. Then, she frowned after a minute, and looking up at him apologetically, forced herself to not bite her lip in nervousness before she spoke. Giving Booth a small smile, his handsome looks distracting her, the receptionist took a deep breath before actually speaking for the first time.

"I'm sorry. I'm going to need a minute. The computer says he was brought into the ER two hours ago and had been taken to Exam Room 2, but I also know that can't be there right now because they just took a young woman in there who's experiencing preterm labor pains. Someone must've forgotten to update the records. I need to talk to the attending physician in the ER to see find out what happened. I'll go find out what's going on it you can wait just a minute," she promised Booth with a faint smile.

Nodding, Booth watched the young woman get up, disappear from the reception area and reappear on the other side of the wall of glass that separated the ER waiting room from the treatment area. Stopping a flustered looking man in his late thirties or early forties, the receptionist said something to the man whom Booth assumed was the doctor she had mentioned. The doctor looked down into the stack of file folders he was carrying and shuffled through them until he found the one for which he was looking. Handing the chart to the receptionist, the doctor continued moving on his way to the opposite side of the room. The receptionist took the chart from the young man, opened it, ran her fingers down a page in the folder, nodded, and then turned to come back to where Booth stood next to Brennan.

"Mr. Booth was taken from Exam 2 to a private room in the hospital's secure wing about twenty minutes ago. The nature of the transfer can't be updated automatically from the doctor's laptops like most paperwork is done these days. Secure transfer still require the hardcopies get filed first as a security precaution. But, if you go down that hallway, take your first right, go straight until you see the elevators, you can take one of them up to the sixth floor. The room is 6412," the receptionist said with a nod.

"Thanks," Booth said with a small smile of thanks. Nodding at Brennan to follow, he quickly turned on his heels and began moving in the direction the receptionist had indicated.

Brennan immediately struggled to keep pace with Booth's fast movements. Booth hadn't said much in the SUV on the ride over. Brennan knew him well enough to not push since only one of two reasons could have kept him silent for that long to her – either, he was using all his energy to keep his temper in check and/or he was trying to figure out what he was going to say - and more importantly - what he was going to do with his brother. For a time, after Jared had stopped drinking, met and gotten engaged to Padme, and taken a job as a security consultant at a local high tech firm, the relationship between the brothers had actually improved. Booth had never had to rethink his previous proviso that he would stop intervening to bail Jared out of tight situations to which his younger brother had stumbled into because they hadn't been necessary in recent months. However, since the spring, in the aftermath of his devastating break up with Padme, Jared had not been doing well and had started to fall into bad habits. Once again, Booth found himself tempted to fall into one of his own bad habits about trying to do what he could to take care of his brother... and, until he saw Jared, Booth didn't know if he would cave and help him or let him lie in the bed which his drunken efforts had made.

Standing beside him once Brennan jogged into the elevator, slightly breathless given Booth's pace, the pair rode the elevator up to the sixth floor in silence. Stopping at the reception desk and security checkpoint that stood in front of the elevator doors, Booth again flashed his badge and signed both he and Brennan in to the restricted part of the hospital floor. By the time they reached room 6412, a DC Metro PD officer stood on guard outside the door. Brennan watched as an odd look came on Booth's face as he glanced at the man who was obviously waiting for them. Approaching the trooper, Booth took his badge and flashed it.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth of the FBI," Booth said.

The DC Metro PD officer, an older man wearing glasses and with thinning salt and pepper hair, looked at Booth and said, "Officer Alan Chessteron."

Reaching out, Brennan was slightly surprised when Booth's stoic facade fell away and was replaced by a relaxed smile. He extended his hand which Chessteron suddenly reached out and shook heartily.

"I'm sorry to have to pull you out here, Booth, but I figured… if it were me, I'd want you to do the same for me," the trooper said quite informally.

"I appreciate that Alan," Booth said. "It's a kindness, and I won't forget it, so thank you."

"That mean you're still buying the tickets for the next time the Flyers are in town against the Capitals?" Alan grinned.

"Damn straight," Booth nodded solemnly. "Don't you worry. You may not be able to sit next to me on the ice when I get the front row seat I've got my eye on, but I'll be thinking of you when you're up in the best rafter's seat Ticketmaster has to offer."

Chessterton laughed and shook his head. "You cheap SOB."

"Ehhh," Booth grinned, his playful demeanor, feigned though Brennan knew it was, still setting her off balance just a bit. "Somehow, I'm sure you'll get over it, Alan. You always do."

"Yeah, you're probably right, Booth. Still... it doesn't make you any less stingy, right," Chessterton said with a grin. Booth smiled again. An awkward silence hung between the pair before, suddenly turning serious, Chessterton said, "It was just by blind stupid luck that I was on patrol and first to respond when the 911 call came in last night, Booth. I was on may way home - it was about 3:30am or so, and I was coming off shift. So, since I was first to respond and pulled rank on the newbies that showed up after, I've been able to keep a pretty short leash on things. Just so you know... I've already arrested and mirandized him, Booth. He blew 0.24 on the breathalyzer."

"Jesus Christ," Booth said, his hand going to the back of his head as he ran it though this hair absentmindedly. "That's over four times the legal limit."

"Yeah," Chessterton agreed. "I don't know what he was drinking, but if he hadn't been as blitzed as he was when he crashed his sedan into the embankment, I don't know what type of trauma he would have sustained. I think being drunk kept him from tensing upon on impact. As is, he has a couple of broken ribs and some nasty gashes on his face and scalp, but, technically, he walked away from the crash under his own power. It was pretty damn miraculous, if you ask me. The EMTs brought him here, and the docs decided to admit him because he hit his head when the force of the crash sent him into the windshield. Fortunately, he was wearing his seatbelt and wasn't ejected. Otherwise, I'd probably be coming to see you instead of the other way around," Chessterton said. "I know this isn't the best way to start a day, but I figured it's a whole hell of a lot better than waking up to some statie like me pounding on your front door to tell you your brother's dead because of another dumbass decision in a long line of recent dumbass decisions that Jared's made," Chessterton said.

Sighing, Booth looked up and asked wearily, "Was any other car involved?"

Chessterton seemed to hesitate for a minute as he considered Booth's question. Brennan watched with interest, but had remained silently standing behind Booth, content just to observe just for once. As such, Brennan saw Chessterton's stumble, but merely filed the detail away for analysis at a later date once the police offer began to speak. "No, there weren't any other cars involved in the accident," Chessterton answered. "He plowed into an embankment at about 50 mph near the last junction on 495 before the Wilson Bridge. There's some construction going on there with that repaving project that the DOT just won't seem to ever finish, you know? I think the temporary traffic pattern change was just too much for Jared to deal with because he just seemed to have lost control of the vehicle and spun out."

"Moron—" Booth muttered quietly. Brennan, still silent, saw Booth clinch his hands tightly behind his back.

"He's lucky, Booth," Chessteron said honestly. "If he'd gone about a half-mile more before he lost control of the car, he would've been on the bridge and spun out into the middle of the Potomac."

His jaw clinched tightly, Booth nodded. "Right." Taking a breath, Booth nodded towards the door. "Can I talk to him?"

"I figured you'd want to," Chessteron replied. "That's why I called. I don't know how much sense he'll make between the booze and whatever meds they've put him on... I don't really know if they've even given him anything besides antibiotics and whatever, given his current state. If it were me, I'd just let him spend the night drying out in the holding cell's drunk tank. But, like I said, the doc that saw him was a bit concerned about the concussion he has. I'm not too worried, though, because he's got an even thicker skull than you do knowing you boys like I do, so that's saying something. But, the docs being as docs are prone to be, they wanted to keep him for observation over night, just to be on the safe side since it was a head injury. As soon as we get the go-ahead tomorrow morning, I'm going to take him in for processing to the Seventh District headquarters."

"Is that still 702?" Booth asked

Chessterton nodded. "Aside from the fact it's jurisdictional from the location where he was arrested, I figured it might get just a little less attention than if I took him into downtown to process at the First District HQ."

Biting his lip, Booth nodded. "Thanks, Alan."

"Like I said Booth, the Capitals' tickets aside, I'd like to think you'd do the same for me if our positions were reversed," Chessterton said. "Lord knows I've spent the last two years, ever since Jake turned twenty-one, in a constant state of fear that I'd get a call after he did something stupid like I had to give you this morning."

"Yeah, well, Jared's not twenty-one, and I'm not his father," Booth mumbled. His face softening, he looked up and nodded, "I'll just be a few minutes." Turning to Brennan, Booth said, "Will you wait here? I… I-I think I want to talk to him alone, okay?"

"Of course," Brennan said. "I'll be right here." Reaching over, Booth flashed her a smile of gratitude, quickly kissed her on the forehead, gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and then disappeared into the hospital room.

Chessterton watched the exchange with interest. Once alone, he nodded at her by way of simultaneous acknowledgement and greeting. "Dr. Brennan."

"Hello, again, Officer Chessterton," Brennan said. "It's been a long time."

Eyeing her curiously, Chessterton looked from Brennan, to the door of Jared's room, and back as he said, "Yes, it has." He quirked his head and arching an eyebrow, Chessterton then said, "Pardon me if I'm being a nosy nancy, Dr. Brennan, and I hope you won't take offense at this if I'm asking something too personal – but, is it just me… or are you and Booth….?" He let his voice trail off, and left the question unfinished.

Brennan, still waiting for him to finish asking his question, realized he had purposely let his voice trail off. Prompting him, Brennan replied, "Are Booth and I what, Officer Chessterton?"

"Well, I know you two have been doing that 'just partners' dance of yours for years now… but, I've… in all the years I've known Booth since he's worked with you, I've, ah, never seen him so *affectionate* with you," Chessterton said. "In public, I mean. And, I was just wondering if I was imagining it, or—"

"Has there been a change in the status of my personal relationship with Agent Booth?' Brennan completed for Chessterton. Had it been someone who hadn't just done Booth a favor by calling him about Jared, combined with the fact that Alan was one of his friends, Brennan wouldn't have bothered to answer the question. However, Chessterton had, he was, and of some of Booth's law enforcement friends – people so numerous in quantity that Brennan had given up years ago trying to keep track of them all – Brennan actually *did* like him. So, she answered when Chessterton nodded at her finishing the sentence for him.

Lifting her hand up so he could see the sparkle of her diamond, Brennan smiled uncharacteristically, as she said, "Traditionally such gestures are considered appropriate public displays of affection between a husband and his wife, are they not, Officer Chesserton?"

"Husband and wife?" Chessterton suddenly blurted out. "Wait, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I'm not certain how to answer that question since I cannot, with one hundred percent certainty, know what mental processes may be occurring in your mind, Officer Chessterton," Brennan responded.

"Are you telling me," Chessterton said, "that Booth and you are hitched now?"

Brennan brightened, suddenly understanding the older man's question and disbelief. "Ahhh. All right. Then, to answer your question, the inaccuracy of your euphemism aside, yes, Booth and I are married… quite happily, thus far, as it so happens to be. Granted, we've only been legally wed for a very short period of time, but during that interim, I feel confident in saying our marriage has been a quite happy one. Pleasurable as well. Very happy, and very pleasurable."

"Well, how about that?" Chessterton laughed. Thrusting his hand at hers in a hearty handshake, he nodded his approval as he said, "Congratulations, are due then, Mrs. Booth. So... congrats!"

"Oh, no," Brennan suddenly said with another frown reappearing on her face. "Just because Booth and I are married now doesn't mean I'm changing my legal name. You may still refer to me as Dr. Brennan," she told him instantly.

"Hmmm," Chessterton laughed. "You're much funnier than I ever thought there, Mrs. B."

"I'm not—"

Shaking his head with a grin, Chessterton said, "Wow. Who would've thought it? After all that happened to Booth over the past year, he finally caught himself a wife. And, a damn pretty one, too. How about that?"

Brennan opened her mouth to protest again, and quickly shut it, as she realized that in Chessterton's final comments, she actually couldn't really argue with the sentiments behind the statement. After the past year Booth had had, who would have thought he'd finally be a married man, indeed?

* * *

><p>When Booth entered Jared's hospital room, he saw his younger brother propped up on a mound of pillows. As Chessterton had warned Booth, his brother actually looked a lot worse than the severity of his wounds actually had indicated regarding his current state of physical well-being. Booth could see Jared's head swathed in a mountain of white sterile white cotton pads and gauze. If his brother didn't normally wear his hair buzzed as short as he had gotten into the habit of doing while in the Navy before his discharge two years ago, the wounds were serious enough that Jared's hair would've been cut by hospital staff out of sheer necessity. Booth could see where several smaller cuts had been stitched closed on Jared's forehead. His brother's pale and bruised skin glistened in places from where an antibiotic ointment salve had been applied. Overall, just seeing the extent of Jared's injuries would've been enough for Booth to feel sorry for his brother – if, Booth reminded himself once more, Jared hadn't brought *everything* on himself... as usual.<p>

"Cut it out," Jared suddenly mumbled from the bed, his eyes remaining closed.

"What?" Booth asked.

"I can hear you mentally berating me all the way over here. If you went to all the trouble of having hauled your ass over here, the least you can do is insult me verbally, face-to-face. Save the disapproving glares for Pops, huh, Seeley?" Jared said, his eyes suddenly opening.

"Fine," Booth said, taking a step closer to the bed. "You still drying out?"

"More or less," Jared replied truthfully. "What took you so long? I thought you'd be here long before now."

"Yeah, because it's not like I don't have anything better to do, right, Jared? It's just my lotin life to be lucky enough to get to be on perpetual speed dial while I wait for the opportunity for the call to come int that you need me to bail you out again, right?" Crossing his arms, Booth asked, "What was it this time?"

"Usual," Jared said simply. "I figure, Jack Daniels is perfection. Why mess with what works?"

Shaking his head, Booth snapped, his irritation growing. "I don't mean what you got shit-faced drinking, Jared. I meant what the fuck happened this time that sent you on another goddamn bender?"

Shrugging, Jared responded to Booth's frustration with an infuriating nonchalance as he said, "Why does it have to be anything? I just wanted to have a good time."

"Yeah," Booth muttered. Looking at his younger brother, he said, "You know, if you ever write your autobiography, that would be a great title, Jared. 'To Have a Good Time: How I Screwed Up My Life by Jared Booth' – it perfectly captures all the important aspects of your entire sorry existence, doesn't it?"

At this, Jared tilted his head, a bit of anger flashing in his eyes as he retorted, "As opposed to yours, Seel? What would the title of *your* autobiography be, then, while we're at it? Oh, I know… how about 'Keeping Your Head Low: The Life of St. Seeley J. Booth'? Or, no, I got it… this one's even better…'Never Taking a Risk and How to Make It Work For You'? I think that one fits a lot better, don't you, Seeley? It really encapsulates… well, everything. It's just so… *you*."

"You know what, Jared? I don't need *this* right now," Booth said. "I'm so tired of having to be afraid that every time my goddamn phone rings in the middle of the night, it's going to be someone calling to tell me that you're dead because you did something *stupid*. Or, even worse, you did something else to some other innocent person who has to pay for your dumbass behavior just because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Then, why are you even here? I didn't ask you to come, I didn't ask anyone to ask you to come," Jared retorted bitterly.

"You're right," Booth said truthfully. "I shouldn't have come. I don't know why I did aside from the fact that after bailing your drunken ass out of the gutter so many times, it's a reflex now. But, I already have a son, and he's enough of a responsibility at this point in my life, without you adding to it. But, I gotta say Jared, even at twelve, I think Parker makes more mature and rational choices than you do, by the way."

"Well, of course, he does," Jared said, as if such a statement were one of the most obvious in the world. "Parker's perfect because his father's perfect. That's how it works, isn't it? The perfect Booth begets another perfect Booth." Jared stopped and quirked an eyebrow at Booth. "Well, okay. Maybe the begetting didn't happen in a perfect way, but you know what I mean."

"I'm so over this," Booth sighed wearily. Pointing his finger at him Booth said, "You know what? It was one thing to cope like this when all that shit went down with Padme. I mean, okay, that was the type of blow that would stun even the best of us. I know that, Jared. I understand, believe me I understand what it's like to get your heart broken like that."

"Do you really, Seeley?" Jared asked.

"Of course," Booth nodded. "She betrayed your trust, in the worst way possible-"

"I was going to *marry* her," Jared pointed out. "I put a ring with *Mom's* diamond on her finger."

"I know that," Booth said quietly. "I know. But, that was *months* ago, Jared, and you've been spiraling out of control ever since. But, now, you've got to stop this. You need to *stop* feeling sorry for yourself, get your head out of your ass, stop drinking, and start putting your life back together."

"Oh, that's rich," Jared laughed. "This coming from the man who spent how long after Hannah left you moping around in a brooding mess of isolation and despair?"

Anger at the mention of his ex's name spiked, more from habit than a genuine true emotional response. His voice dropping an octave, Booth said, "She didn't leave me."

"Right," Jared said, suddenly snapping his fingers. "That's right. She didn't leave of her own choice, did she? She wanted to stay, but you made her leave. You tossed her aside when you threw that little temper tantrum because she wouldn't immediately and happily ask 'how high' when you crooked your little finger at her and said 'jump.' Yet another person you couldn't control and so sent packing, right, Seel?"

At his words, this time, true anger flared in Booth's mind. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket to keep from doing something he'd regret, given the fact that Jared was in a hospital bed, even if his own irresponsible choices had put him there.

"This is just a bit of good advice, Jared, but I suggest you shut the fuck up about Hannah. You don't know a goddamn thing about her or what happened between us, so *be* quiet," Booth hissed.

"You might be surprised what I know and what I don't know about that, Seel, but okay," Jared said cryptically. "Fine. You don't want to talk about Hannah. We won't talk about Hannah. Even though you were a moron for that, by the way. She loved you, Seeley, and I think we both know that's something rare in life... finding a good woman, who's both capable and willing to put up with all the bullshit that comes tied up in the Booth male package? They don't just grow on fig trees, you know? But, just because you got hung up on wanting to lock her down with a band of gold on her finger, you let her get away. So, okay. Fine, we won't talk about Hannah. Lord knows there are plenty of other choices we can use to show how you really treat the people you care about when they screw up and make a mistake."

Booth glared at Jared, a look of warning plainly evident on his face. However, as was usually the case, his younger brother ignored the unspoken suggestion that Jared's current verbal tirade was not the best idea with which to proceed. Booth found himself grinding his teeth as Jared still rambled on in his diatribe.

"So, like I was saying... other examples besides Hannah? Well, I mean… there's Rebecca. That's an oldie, but a goldie. Kinda a bit repetitive, though, since what happened with Becks is sorta the same thing that happened with Hannah. I mean, minus Parker, we both know you wouldn't have even spoken to her ever again if it weren't for the fact that you'd knocked her up right before you broke up with her. But, that does bring up a good point."

"And, what's that?"

"You should probably warn Parker about this nasty habit of yours sometime soon, okay, because, at some point, he's going to reach an age when he's going to do something that'll disappoint you, and you'll want to cut him off to for failing you. So, you gotta warn him. It's only fair, really, to warn a kid like that, Seeley. It'll help prepare him for the day when you'll look at him like you've always looked at me. But, anyway, examples… oh, right. Hannah, Rebecca… well, Cam really can't count since *she* actually was the one to break it off with *you*. Then, again, Cam was always the smartest woman that you ever actually managed to stumble into bed with… well, except, of course, for Tempe." At the thought of Brennan, Jared suddenly laughed.

"Oh, man. Yeah, can't forget about her. Smart girl like that, but she's also a bit of an aberration to the Seeley J. Booth Master Plan of Disappoint and Ditch, isn't she? Wow, now that I actually think about it, yeah, there's definitely something hard to explain going on there." Jared tilted his head, and considered his words for a second before he added, "Course that one's always been a bit confusing to me,too."

"A lot of things are confusing to you, Jared," Booth growled. "It's probably from the number of brain cells you've killed from the binge drinking over the years."

"Maybe," Jared agreed. "Or, maybe it's just the fact that I've *never* understood what she's seen in you to let her put up with how shitty you've treated her for *years*… But, that's on Tempe. We're talking about you. So, even still, I'm surprised. Shouldn't you have given her an ultimatum long before now so that she could fail to live up to your standards and you could send her packing, too? Unless, of course, you've never even gotten to the point of giving Tempe an ultimatum because you've never actually managed to pull the trigger and even tried to get her into bed-"

Taking his right hand out of his pocket, Booth pointed, anger blazing in his eyes as he carefully controlled his voice as he said, "That's enough! *Shut* up. You don't know jack shit about Bones, me, or our relationship, so shut the fuck up, Jared." Booth moved towards the door, but abruptly stopped, with his hand still on the knob. Shaking his head in disgust, Booth said over his shoulder, a bit of taunting coming into his voice, "Good luck with that DUI charge, Jared. They said you blew 0.24, by the way. That should be good for at least an extreme DUI felony charge… yeah, sure, you might be able to plead it down, but, well, I hope you've got some money saved because you're going to need a good lawyer."

"Fuck you, Seeley," Jared snapped.

Shaking his head, Booth shot his brother a final look borderingon disgusted hatred, threw the door open, and stalked out the room leaving Jared alone, glaring bitterly at his older brother's retreating form.

* * *

><p>Two days later, Booth still remained in a foul mood because of his fight with Jared.<p>

As soon as she had seen Booth throw open the door to Jared's hospital room, and stalk out as angry as she had ever seen him, Brennan knew the conversation had not gone over well. Booth barely stopped to give Chessterton a civil nod of goodbye. He merely muttered something about Jared being all his. Booth then quickly disappeared down the hall. Giving Chessterton a half-apologetic nod of her own, Brennan quickly followed after him. By the time they reached the SUV in the hospital's parking garage, Booth still hadn't said anything. The pair had sat in silence for some time, Brennan uncertain how to proceed given the intensity radiating off of Booth. Fortunately for her, a call from Cam had saved them trying to figure out what to do next, as a body had been discovered, and work necessitated them setting aside personal issues to be dealt with at a later time.

Since then, Booth had been on edge, short and snapping at just about everyone but Cam - because she wouldn't tolerate it - and Brennan - for some reason she still couldn't quite figure out, because she was quite certain it was *Booth* modifying his behavior in regards to her, and not the other way around. Brennan, uncertain how to soothe Booth's temper, tried her best to think of things that might please him in an attempt to distract him from whatever the brothers had said to each other – a conversation of which Booth had not still spoken to her of one single word at all. Brennan's latest plan had resulted in Booth being forced home from the Hoover at Brennan's insistence. Tempting him with a box of warm Thai take out, a cold-six pack of Yuengling, and a flash of the black satin camisole she was wearing underneath her suit jacket, Brennan had finally gotten Booth to start to decompress using the combination of logical, threats, and tempting blackmail (of a sort).

Now, Brennan feeling somewhat triumphant in her efforts, had Booth exactly where she finally wanted him. Booth was lying facedown in nothing but his boxers on her bed. Straddling his legs, Brennan found herself pleased when Booth moaned softly as she leaned forward and tried to leverage her weight to achieve more of the pressure that she believed she needed to be successful in her efforts to relieve some of his significant muscular distress. Moving her hands in a repetitive motion, Brennan felt his muscles begin to ease a bit as she worked the amber-scented massage oil into his skin.

"You are still *way* too tense, Booth," Brennan observed. "Especially for a man who's just consumed as much food, alcohol, and watched hockey like you have. You've got to ease up a bit," she said as she continued to work the knots out of his tissue.

"Mppghppplllm," Booth replied, the pillow upon which he was resting his head muffling the majority of his actual answer.

"Hmmm," Brennan said, still working on the tender muscles of her husband's back. "I'm not certain what you said exactly, but I take the sentiment behind your verbalization."

"God," Booth finally uttered coherently, lifting his head slightly from the pillow. "If I'd known how good you were with your hands on live bodies before now, I would've forced you to marry me years ago."

"While historically marriage by abduction, or capture, was quite common in tribal societies, particularly those of Celtic or Germanic persuasion, I can't say that I'm aware of any circumstance where a man kidnapped a potential bride for non-property considerations and non-sexual or lineage considerations, like her ability to use deep muscle massage technique to bring relief to one's lower lumbar region," Brennan commented wryly.

"Don't care," Booth moaned. "So, what if you were the first? It'd have been worth it."

"Mmmmm hmmmm," Brennan muttered. "So, does this mean you'll listen to me the next time I suggest that I know a way to make you feel better?"

Turning his head cheekily, Booth smiled one of the first real smiles that Brennan had seen him give her – or anyone, for that matter – in days. It wasn't his normal grin, but it was close enough. "Ya know, Bones, when you said that earlier, I thought you were just propositioning me."

"Indecently?' Brennan laughed.

"Of course," Booth replied. "Aren't those the best kind anyway?" Booth asked.

"While I have no objection to the principle of offering to engage in sexual activities with you for either one of us to obtain physical release, no, that's not what I meant earlier. I knew you were going to strain your back as soon as you decided to go sprinting after that suspect, despite the fact that you had just spent the better part of six hours straight sitting in the Sequoia, Booth. It was quite an unwise decision to make on your part."

"Why's that again?" Booth asked, a small twinkle coming into his eyes.

"Because your muscles were already extremely tense, and have been for days, and you can't just expect to go running off like you did and not feel any physical reaction," Brennan said with a slight frown.

Booth opened his mouth to protest, and anticipating his reply, Brennan exerted a particularly strong motion to his latissimus dorsi. A yelp was all that escaped from Booth's mouth, and Brennan chuckled to herself in response.

"You all right, Booth?" Brennan said innocently as she eased up on the motion of her hands.

Narrowing his eyes, Booth turned his head to look over his shoulder again and said, "You did that on purpose."

"Nope," Brennan said, biting back a smile. "I didn't—"

"You did," Booth insisted. "You did, too, Bones."

"No—"

"You're so going to pay for that one once I'm not all lubed up like some popular lap dancer on a Friday night in Georgetown's most posh strip club. And, when you don't have such a strategic advantage over me, just FYI, Bones. Just FYI," Booth muttered in mock annoyance.

An evil look coming into Brennan's eyes, her hands traveled silkily in a fluid motion from Booth's latissimus dorsi to his gluteus medius. She gave the waistband of his boxers a sharp snap as she said in a sultry voice, "Why wait, Booth? If you think you're good enough, why wait at all?"

His head jerking around, Booth's soft brown eyes immediately grew darker as they narrowed at Brennan. Taking her challenge in the spirit in which it had been given, Booth promptly responded. Almost instantaneously, Brennan found herself letting out a sharp bark of laughter as Booth twisted his back, upended her onto the middle of the bed, and proceeded to demonstrate just what he could and couldn't expect realistically, from his muscles performance-wise, on any given day…. much to Brennan's very pleasurable disbelief. Later, when Brennan found herself naked and wrapped around a slumbering Booth - the first peaceful sleep she had seen him fall into for several days - she smiled drowsily, quite pleased with her efforts. All in all, the ensuing activities that had transpired after Brennan had taunted Booth made her very happy to be proved incorrect about human anatomy and physiology for one of the rare moments in her entire life. Quite happy, in fact. The smile staying on her lips, like Booth, soon, Brennan too fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>The next day, Brennan found herself ensconced for far longer than she usually liked to spend at the Hoover. Riding in with Booth from where they had spent the night at her apartment, Brennan hadn't even had a chance to complain about not having had a chance to get the lab yet. They both had known that the day's schedule of interrogations those demanded of them by their latest case, would be numerous and extensive. It was days like this one that Brennan hated the most in the years since she had begun her partnership with Booth. There were just too many suspects and not any evidence yielded from the remains or crime scene that could help them to whittle the list down. Thus, like searching for a needle in a haystack, Brennan had agreed to help Booth with their hunt for the killer of their most recent victim, one George Taskins of Cheverly, Maryland.<p>

While waiting for Sweets to finish arguing with Booth about a procedural point on a planned interrogation for a suspect due to be brought in for questioning in the murder of Taskins, Brennan had retreated from the observation room. She quietly snuck away to the FBI break room to grab a new cup of coffee. Normally, Brennan didn't like staying at the Hoover long enough to require imbibing the subpar coffee brewed in the break room on Booth's office floor. However, on this day, it simply couldn't be helped with so many suspects needing to be processed, and Brennan needing some caffeine to get through the grueling experience.

Taskins, a man found electrocuted and stuffed into the insulation of his condo's ceilings, had not been a well-liked individual. Two ex-wives, several bitter girlfriends, and a vengeful best friend merely *topped* the list of people with a strong enough motive to have wanted to see the Maryland State Trooper dead. Brennan was reflecting on these thoughts as she refilled the coffee mug she had stolen from Booth - it read 'Property of the Philadelphia Fliers' - and prepared her beverage with the requisite amount of cream and sugar to suit her tastes.

Taking a stirrer, Brennan watching the dark black of the coffee swirl to a light, light brown color. Normally, she didn't like drinking her coffee as a pseudo café con leche concoction, Brennan hoped the excessive powdered cream might hide some of the bitterness of the inferior coffee beans that the FBI provided to its employees as a 'perk'. Lifting the coffee cup to her mouth, Brennan's face screwed into a preemptive look that she anticipated would be an appropriate response to match her reaction to processing the unpleasant taste of her beverage. Several swirls of steam escaped her mug - at least the coffee was hot - and drifted from the cup to her nose, tickling it a bit. She was just about to finally take a sip of her drink, when a flash of purple buzzed by the kitchenette and quickly disappeared. Immediately, Brennan knew that something appeared to be familiar about the source of the purple flash. Lowering the cup from her mouth, Brennan adjusted her grasp on the mug and began to walk in the direction in which the flash had moved – not that it would have taken her any great distance away from her intended destination once she had obtained her coffee prior to the flash's manifestation anyway. Brennan walked back in the direction from which she had come, returning to the portion of the floor that housed their current interrogation room, the field office bullpen, and Booth's office.

As she walked past the door to the interrogation room, Brennan realized the flash of purple - a female in a plum colored pants suit - had come to a stop in front of the door to Booth's office. Her eyes narrowed as soon as Brennan confirmed the fact that her peripheral vision had once again served her well, quite well. Yes, something had seemed familiar about the flash because the person in question who had raced by the kitchenette *was* familiar to her. Although Brennan had not seen her in over two years, she still remembered the woman with a twinge of annoyance and a very, very tiny, but very sharply muted flash of jealously.

Standing in front of Booth's empty office, Dr. Catherine Bryar tilted her head and frowned when she saw the room was unoccupied. She seemed to be considering what to do next when Brennan moved towards her, eyes still narrowed in displeased suspicion, and she caught the marine biologist's vision.

"Uh, hi," Bryar said a bit nervously, fidgeting on the balls of her feet, despite the fact that she was trying to remain still.

"Yes?" Brennan inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Gesturing her thumb at the door to Booth's office, Bryar said, "This is still Agent Seeley Booth's office, right?"

Brennan's head turned towards the door, and briefly looking to make certain the lettering that she knew to be present was still there, she refocused her attention on Bryar. "I believe the lettering that states an individual's name on the door is a typical indicator of to whom this office is currently assigned, is it not?'

Snapping her fingers, Bryar smiled sheepishly. "Right. Of course, it's his office. His name's on the door, duh." Letting out a sigh, Bryar seemed to be really seeing Brennan for the first time as she paused and then asked, "What I meant was... you don't happen to know where he is at the moment do you?"

"I'm not Booth's secretary," Brennan said plainly. "I would advise you to call or send an email to schedule an appointment at a more convenient time."

Perhaps it was the pretentious tone that jogged her memory, but her brow furrowing in recognition, Bryar asked, "Wait a second, I know you, don't?"

"If your question implies the more accurate inquiry, 'have we been introduced before?' - then, the answer is yes, Dr. Bryar," Brennan said.

"Ohhh," Bryar replied, comprehension dawning. "We met two years ago at the Jeffersonian. You do things with bones."

"That's correct," Brennan said with an approving nod. "I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan. And, although your description of my profession is overtly simplistic, I'm a forensic anthropologist who specializes in osteology."

"That's right," Bryar said suddenly. "You were Seeley's partner, aren't you?"

"I *still* am Booth's partner," Brennan said, correcting Bryar's verb tense. "But, the answer to your question is also yes."

"So, can you tell me where I might be able to find him then? I *really*, really need to talk to him," Bryar said, resuming her earlier goal.

Shaking her head, Brennan said, "As I said previously, I'm Booth's partner, not his secretary. I'm you want to talk to him, you'll need to arrange it yourself. But, I can tell you that we're currently in the middle of a homicide investigation that's very time consuming. Neither one of us really has time to be distracted by unscheduled social diversions not related to our casework."

Bryar considered her words, and then nodded with a deflated and mildly chagrined look on her face. "You're probably right. I shouldn't have just dropped by… I… I'm sorry to disturb you."

"I accept your apology," Brennan replied.

Reaching into her purse, Bryar took out a business card and handed it to Brennan. "I realize that you're not Seeley's assistant, but would you please give that to him when you see him? There's something really important that I need to talk to him about – sooner rather than later is probably for the best."

Reluctantly, Brennan nodded as she took the card.

"Thanks," Bryar said. She then turned and began to walk back the way she had come.

Brennan stared at the retreating form, the woman who despite the fact that she had at least three inches in height on, whose hair and eye coloring unsettled Brennan. Her well-tailored plum colored pants suit and black patent leather heels screamed chic, and she looked less marine biologist than most scientists Brennan knew. Staring at the card, Brennan shook her head and watched Bryar go, not pleased at all to see a woman, that seemed to remind Brennan just a bit too much of herself for comfort, reappear in Booth's life – and, by default, Brennan's own.

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	4. Ch 3: A Recurring Theme

Revisiting a Big Mistake

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: Mixing sex and alcohol can have disastrous consequences, especially when a face from the past returns with a secret that threatens Booth and Brennan's new relationship and recent marriage. Set post-"Blackout in the Blizzard." Very AU.

* * *

><p>Chapter 3 – A Recurring Theme<p>

* * *

><p>A couple of days after Brennan had seen Dr. Catherine Bryar at the Hoover, she sat in Angela's family room. Angela sat on the far end of the couch, sketch pad in hand, as she worked on some preliminary drawings of their most recent case's victim. Although Michael had been born several months before, making his arrival at the end of May, Angela had only been back from maternity leave for a few weeks. She was still getting used to the idea of how to juggle her work schedule and desire to spend as little time away from her baby as possible. Fortunately, at not quite four months old, Michael was still content to spend much of his time either eating, sleeping, or simply being held.<p>

It was the later pastime that Brennan was currently helping the baby to enjoy. For some strange reason, one that Brennan still couldn't figure out, Michael had taken to his metaphorical aunt in a way that no one had quite anticipated, even Angela. The only other person to whom Michael had responded so warmly and so openly was his grandfather Billy. That particular fact had annoyed Hodgins to no end, especially when Angela had to resort to playing guitar solos that her father had happily recorded to soothe the baby when he was cranky or fretful. Nevertheless, on this particular day, Michael was in good spirits and happy to have Brennan attempting to distract him with various 'movements designed to initiate spatial disorientation.' After a while, still smiling, casually and more relaxed than Angela had seen Brennan in some time-which made Angela smile in approval to see how well her best friend had adapted to married life and apparently so easily- Brennan spoke.

"You know, Ange, Micheal's resistance to being distracted by attempts to disorientate him spatially most likely indicate he's progressing very well developmentally. It's an excellent sign that he's mastering his own responses to external stimuli at such a young age. While there are conflicting theories on the matter, there are a number of renowned pediatric neurologists who believe that there's a link between such behavior and an infant's ability to demonstrate self-propulsion. It's quite realistic that Michael may be showing the first signs of mobility very soon," Brennan said.

Angela looked at her best friend as she held her son. Chuckling slightly, Angela replied, "Bren, do you really think that just because Jack spent five hundred bucks on that hoity toity baby mobile that he insisted we put in the nursery, that when Mikey spaces out to it before he goes to sleep that it, that what happens exactly… something stimulates his brain cells somehow so that he'll start crawling sooner than average babies?"

Brennan shrugged slightly. "I'm not a pediatrician, and nor do I have much experience in the study of the developmental stages of infants, but, yes. As you've summarized the situation, I do think it's a possibility. As I said, I've read quite a few studies that were published _the Journal of Pediatrics_, _Infant Behavior and Development,_ _Pediatrics_, and _Infants and Young Children_ during my leisure time that seems to support such an assessment as having some validity."

Narrowing her eyes, Angela looked at Brennan in suspicion as she said, "You're reading articles about infant and child development for _fun, _Bren?"

Brennan bit her lip for a few seconds. She glanced back and forth from where Michael was happily babbling in her arms to where his mother stood gazing at her with a piercing state of assessment. She then said, "Don't chide me, Angela. It's quite interesting to me."

Shaking her head slightly, Angela smiled as she replied, "Oh, sweetie. I'm not chastising you. I just didn't think it would happen this soon."

"What?" Brennan asked, confusion clearly evident on her face. "What didn't you think would happen this soon?"

Giving her friend a knowing look, Angela looked at her son as he began to fuss. Brennan tried to bounce him to distract him, but Angela knew it wouldn't work as soon as Brennan tried it. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was getting to be past the time when Michael needed to go down for his mid-morning nap lest he get _too _cranky. When Brennan looked up at her in askance, Micheal's fussing growing worse, Angela reached out and took him as she said, "Bren, come on. Let's not beat around the bush here, huh? Mikey's already sucked the majority of my life force away at breakfast today, and he's due for round two in just a couple of hours at lunch time, so I'm kind of already running on fumes. Cut me some slack, okay?"

Shaking her head slightly, Brennan said, "I'm not sure what you mean, Angela. I don't have anything to confess to you, nor, so far as I'm aware, is there any topic upon which I require advice. All is well with me, and Booth, and-"

"Brennan!" Angela said, interrupting her friend's explanation. The sharpness of her voice caught both Brennan and the baby off guard. However, apparently used to his mother's verbal exclamations, Michael merely stopped fussing and stared at Angela.

However, at her friend's exclamation, Brennan's head snapped up and she made a small o-shape of surprise before she said, "Yes, Ange?"

Shaking her finger at her best friend, clearly short on patience and becoming exasperated, Angela then took the baby and passed him back to Brennan. Somewhat surprised, Brennan reluctantly took him as Angela said, "Okay, Bren. Here's a hint."

Now that he was no longer fussing, Michael had chosen to once again start analyzing Brennan. He stared intently into her blue eyes, and for a few seconds, Brennan stared back before she looked up at Angela and said, "Michael?" Angela nodded once. "Micheal's the hint?"

Angela nodded again, and then added, just so that there wouldn't be any confusion. "Uh huh." Still Brennan looked in confusion from Angela to Michael to Angela again. Once again, Angela verbally confirmed, "Yup."

"Okay," Brennan said, her voice taking on a slight edge that, if Angela didn't know any better, she'd say was eerily reminiscent of Booth's verbiage, "So, what about him exactly is the hint, Ange?"

Shaking her head, Angela said, "You're holding my first-born son in your hands, Brennan."

"Yes," Brennan agreed. "I know. And, I think I'm becoming extremely adroit at interacting with children. If you notice, Michael only began to cry once during the entire time when I held him this morning." She paused, look into the infant's eyes, and smiled at the baby. Michael smiled back at Brennan and began to gurgle. "You know, Ange, I never expected to become as skilled as I've apparently become with children, but over the past few years, things have changed more than I ever thought possible."

Brennan was still staring at Michael, and slightly distracted. Deciding to try a different tactic, Angela smirked as she said, "You mean like you deciding that you want a baby?"

The response was subtle, almost as if Brennan had come to realize the missing part of equation she had been struggling to solve for days without any luck. Lifting her head from where she was making faces at Michael, Brennan slowly looked over at Angela and simply stared. The dumbstruck expression on Brennan's face was priceless, and Angela wished she had a camera. Smiling, she laughed lightly as she nodded at her friend.

"You shouldn't be so shocked, Bren," Angela told her.

Tilting her head a bit, Brennan swallowed once before she replied, "I-I… I can't help it, Ange. I've… I've never actually considered the point-well, at least, not recently, anyway. At least, not since Booth got sick and everything else happened."

"Everything else being marathon sprints to deserts and tropical islands, blonde Barbie reporters, crazy serial killers and snipers, and a snow storm to top it all off, huh?" Angela said, reaching out for Michael.

Brennan handed over the baby without protest, although Michael clearly was not pleased about being reassigned to his mother. He began to twist in Angela's arms and reached out to Brennan. However, still shell-shocked at Angela's pointing out of the obvious, Brennan ignored the baby as she struggled with her own realization.

Leaving Brennan alone for a couple of minutes to gather her thoughts, Angela went and put the baby down for his nap. When Angela returned, she saw Brennan sitting in exactly the same place and staring at the exact same blank spot on the wall as she had been when she left to put the baby down. Coming over, Angela plopped down in her chair unceremoniously. The shuffling noises caught Brennan's attention, and drew her back from the myriad of her swirling thoughts to the external world where her best friend awaited her response.

Nodding at her, Angela said, "It's a lot to process all at once, Bren. Try not to short circuit any genius neurons there."

Brennan stared at her for a few more seconds before she said, "You're right."

Angela nodded again as she said, "Yeah, well, sweetie, this one wasn't all that hard to figure out. I mean, now that Booth's in a place where he can make a direct deposit for you instead of all that insemination crap that you kicked around two years ago, I'd be surprised if the idea _hadn't_ started to creep into your brain on some level."

"I should've known," Brennan said, shaking her head a bit. "I mean, I know I started to do some research when you told me you were pregnant, but I've been spending a lot more time reading about pregnancy and infants and-"

Chuckling at her friend, Angela smiled, and said, "It's okay, Bren. You don't have to explain it to me."

"I know," Brennan said instantly. "I just-"

Cutting her friend off slightly, Angela said, "I said you don't have to explain it to _me_, Bren. But, all things considered, what you do need to do is figure out a way to explain it to Booth."

At her friend's words, Brennan's eyes widened a bit and then she bit her lip, a look of uncertainty coming onto her face. "I had not thought about that point, Ange."

Hoping she could help to reassure Brennan, Angela said, "Of course you haven't, Bren, since you just realized it about three seconds ago yourself."

"Combined with the time it took you to put Michael down for his nap, it's been significantly longer than three seconds since your observation prompted my realization, Ange-"

Waving her off, Angela said, "Whatever."

"Still," Brennan said, ignoring Angela's comment, "You're right. You have a valid point. I do need to take some time to figure out what's the most effective and least shocking way to broach this topic with Booth."

"How about a fifth of tequila, a new black bra and panties set from Fredericks', and some R&B?" Angela quipped.

Brennan considered Angela's words before a small smile crept onto her face. "Although he would deny it, and I most certainly would have to do so as well lest he censor me for sharing such private details, Booth actually prefers alternative rock while we're engaging in foreplay. He's particularly inspired, I've noticed over the past few months, when U2 comes up on his iPod shuffle." Brennan stopped, seemed to get lost in a memory and flushed a bit as she smiled and then looked back at Angela as she continued. "Now, I'm not quite certain why, because-as far as I know, Booth's cultural heritage is primarily English-but, I can't fault the results of his affinity for a musical band of Irish descent." Brennan stopped again, and then cracked another smile as she said, "I, myself, have come to have quite an appreciation of their album _The Joshua Tree_."

At this, Angela arched an eyebrow as she said, "Which is a better track… 'With or Without You' or 'What I'm Looking For'?"

Brennan bit her lip, a telling smiling on her face as she said with only a beat of hesitation, "'With or Without You'."

Angela stared at her, her mouth falling open a bit as she said, "Wow, I wasn't buying it at first since we all know Amish farmers in Pennsylvania have a better pop culture IQ than you do, but you really do know what those songs are, don't you?"

"Why would I make something like that up?" Brennan asked. "Besides, Ange, you have to remember, I had a very good incentive to learn and remember details like that."

"You have a U2 playlist on your iPod now, don't you?"

Slowly, Brennan laughed as she nodded.

"Well," Angela said wryly. "Then, I'm not sure what in the hell you need me for when you've got Bono."

Brennan smiled, and shook her head, "Bono can only do half the job, Ange. For the other half-trying to figure out the right way to say things to Booth? Well, for _that _part, I'm always going to need you."

Angela looked at her best friend and then felt tears prick a bit at the corner of her eyes. "Damn, I'd love to be able to blame this on hormones-and I'd definitely rather talk about this than Jack's insane issues of the baby's nickname-but, if that's not one of the sweetest things you've ever said to me, I don't know what is, Bren-"

Reaching over to the counter, Brennan blithely offered a box of Kleenex. "Tissue?"

Shaking her head, Angela grabbed the box, and then promptly chucked it at Brennan's head, the pair laughing as Brennan ducked and the box of tissues fell to the floor.

* * *

><p>By the time Booth came home later that night, he was surprised to see Brennan sitting on the couch, her laptop open as she sat in front of the TV. It was on, although the sound had been muted, as she had left it on a new channel. Brennan was happily typing away, the clicking of her fingers on the keyboard the only sound that was disrupting the smooth and mellow strains of the music coming from Booth's iPod. He smiled as he noticed the music turned on low, and when Booth realized what track listing was playing, he grinned.<p>

As soon as he had stowed his gun in the safe, dropped his phone, badge, and keys in the entryway, Booth walked into the family room, and came up behind the couch and wrapped his arms around Brennan. She tilted her head as she met his embrace with a light kiss.

"Hey," she said.

"Hi," Booth grinned.

"You're late," Brennan said, glancing at the clock.

Booth stood up, straightened his back, and rolled his shoulders as he took a breath and nodded. "Yeah. A bit."

"Are you hungry?' Brennan asked. "I got hungry and so I already ate, but there's some leftover Greek salad and humus that I saved for you. I got it from that Greek Palace that we tried a couple of weeks ago over on 9th Street?"

Shaking his head, Booth walked around the couch and sat down. Shaking his head, Booth said, "No, I'm not really hungry. Maybe later."

At his casual words, Brennan immediately became suspicious. "What's wrong?"

Booth shrugged his shoulders casually, just a bit _too _casually. "What makes you think anything's wrong?"

"You turned down food," Brennan immediately replied. "You _never _turn down food. Ergo, something must be preoccupying you enough that you've deviated from your normal behavior. And, I must admit-" Brennan let her voice trail off as she tilted her head a bit and said, "Anything that's bothering you enough that it makes you want not to eat makes me concerned, Booth. Greatly concerned."

Leaning over, Booth raised his hand and tucked an errant strand of hair behind Brennan's ear. He then said, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to worry you."

"Then, tell me what's wrong," Brennan said. "What's bothering you?" She tilted her head and then asked in a smaller voice, "Did you finally get a chance to talk with Catherine?"

Booth took a slow breath in and out before he responded, "And, now, why, out of all thing different things that you could ask me about would you think _that _particular one could make my appetite go poof?"

"'Poof'?"

"As in, 'poof', a wave of the magic wand, and it's gone-"

"There's no such thing as magic, Booth-" Brennan began. And, although Booth would normally give her a look to assuage such anthropological diatribes, when he didn't-but, seemed quite happy to let Brennan run off at the mouth-she knew she needed to concentrate on not being distracted. Raising a finger to his cheek, Brennan traced the outline of his lower jaw as she said, "The tension in your facial musculature, and your upper body-particularly, deltoids, teres major, and several smaller muscles that are grouped together and collectively referred to as your rotator cuff-would seem to indicate that you've had an experience, or number of experiences, that have cumulatively impacted you in less than a positive way. And, considering the fact that the tension seemed to increase at my mention of Dr. Bryar's first name, it's a logical and rational supposition that she is somehow involved in whatever events culminated in your unhappy mood and subsequent loss of appetite."

Booth stared at her for a minute and then said with a small chuckle, "I don't know if you just shrinked me or squinted me or did some weird squint-shrink combo there, Bones, but I gotta tell you, in either case, it's weird. Very weird."

Brennan allowed herself to smile a small smile at Booth's joke, but then she said, "Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?" Booth replied, looking up at her and meeting Brennan's gaze.

"Please?" she asked. "Tell me what's wrong?"

"I didn't have a bad day," Booth said, his tone a bit more quiet. "Hectic, yes. Extremely rushed, and so packed full of crap I had to get done that I felt like a ping pong ball bouncing back and forth from one thing to another, yeah. Definitely. But, honestly, Bones, if there was something that you needed to be worried about, I would tell you."

Her eyes still narrowed in suspicion, Brennan asked, "You promise?"

Booth lifted his hand and extended his little finger as he smiled and said, "Pinky swear?"

At this, Brennan _did_ legitimately chuckled. "As much as I appreciate the gesture, Booth. It's not necessary."

"You sure?" Booth replied. "Because, Bones, if it'll make you feel better, I've got no problems breaking out the pinky swear promise-"

"No," Brennan reaffirmed with a light smile. "That's okay. I trust you if you tell me that nothing's wrong." She paused at this and then shook her head slightly, "While I do believe I've improved in my ability to assess and maintain changes in my interpersonal relationships since we've been married, Booth, I must admit that some of the more subtle nuances are still confusing to me. Given your deviation from the patterns of established behavior that I know to be normal for you, I had assumed that at least one, if not more of your experiences today, had some negative effect on your person. However, in reality, it seems as if, while you may have undergone stressful events today, they were not enough in their totality to merit my concern such as it was-"

"Bones?" Booth interrupted his wife with a playful grin on his face, the first hint of a real smile that Brennan had seen since earlier that morning before he left for work.

"Yes, Booth?"

"Is this your way of saying you're confused because you don't understand if I had a bad day or not?"

Brennan stopped, considered his words as she analyzed their possible context in a myriad of multiple ways, and, after a few seconds, she nodded. "In my own long-winded and roundabout way, yes."

Booth again grinned as he said, "I'm fine, Bones." It was now Booth's turn to stop, tilt his head at Brennan and said, "But-"

"But?"

"Yeah," Booth repeated. "But, _I _know that _you _only get this way when something's on _ your_ mind, Bones. So, out with it, Bones. What gives?"

Biting her lip for a moment, Brennan narrowed her eyes as she thought for the thousandth time-at least-that she was still amazed that someone had come to know her so very well. A bit hesitant, Brennan finally spoke. "Well, you know I took the morning off today since it's been slow at the lab."

Booth nodded.

"And," Brennan continued. "I went and visited with Angela today."

"Oh, yeah?" Booth asked, suddenly brightening a bit at the mention of the artist. "So, how's she doing?

"I think she likes being on a four-day work week very much," Brennan explained. "By choosing to take Wednesdays off when our investigations don't specifically or essentially require her expertise, it allows her to have more free time with Michael while he is still in the midst of such a crucial developmental phase where maternal presence and bonding with the infant is still at a pivotal juncture."

"Yeah," Booth said with a nod of his own. "Babies don't stay that small forever. It's a good thing that she can take the time she does with him while Mikey's as young as he is-"

Noticing the look that had come over Brennan, Booth pointed at her as she made a face at his words. "What?" Booth asked. "What's that look for, Bones?"

Lightly shaking her head, Brennan replied, "It's nothing."

"Bones…."

"It's just that… why give a baby like Michael a nickname like that?" Brennan began, taking a breath before she continued. "I mean, okay-'Bones'-I understand, now, given the fact that you wanted to personalize our interaction when we began to work together as partners why you had the inclination to give me a nickname. But, Michael is so young, and since he's still in the process of developing the ability to comprehend verbal cues, it's quite doubtful that he can even comprehend the implications behind your action in referring to him with a nickname in the affectionate way that you mean it-"

With another knowing look, Booth interrupted her. "Is it Angela or Hodgins that started it?"

A look of slight confusion came over Brennan's face as she responded, "Started what?"

"The argument," Booth said. "The one they're having over which nickname to use?"

Unable to help herself, Brennan began to laugh. She was highly amused and surprised by Booth's uncanny knack for understanding the _real _heart of the issue they were discussing-although for some reason, Brennan didn't know why she continued to feel such surprise when Booth had made it clear that such a skill was one that he employed with regular habit. Nodding at him, she said, "According to Angela, at least, it's Hodgins, I suppose. He's been calling the baby Mike or Mikey for a few months now. But, apparently, several weeks ago, Ange started calling him 'Mick'."

"Mick, as in Mick Dundee?" Booth asked with a slight look of disbelief clear on his face.

A look of confusion coming onto her face, Brennan said, "I'm not certain-"

Waving her off, Booth said, "Never mind. It's not important. Keep going."

Nodding, Brennan said, "Anyway, Hodgins apparently asked her why she was calling the baby that, and Ange said she once had a boyfriend whom she was really close to even after they broke up who was named Mick-"

A look of comprehension dawning on his face, Booth suddenly chuckled as he said, "And, let me guess. When Hodgins found out that she wanted to call their son after an ex, he didn't take that very well, did he?"

"Not exactly, no," Brennan said with a rueful smile. For the most part, the entomologist had mellowed to the extreme in the years since he'd been with Angela, particularly since they'd married and decided to start a family. However, every so often, a flash of the impatient and slightly neurotically angry Jack Hodgins of old would reassert himself with a ruthless vengeance, and apparently the 'Mikey' vs. 'Mick' nickname debate had set him off in a way that hadn't been seen in quite some time.

Booth considered Brennan's words for a minute and then said, "Well, I guess that's pretty understandable then. Lord knows when we have kids, I don't want you calling our baby 'Timmy' or some other vomit-inducing nickname."

At his casual words, Brennan suddenly felt her heart skip a beat. She merely stared at him for a few seconds, caught off guard at the potential larger implications of the comment, from the perspective of what she had been given what she and Angela had been discussing only a few hours earlier. However, the look was enough to catch Booth's attention, and he nodded at her.

"What?"

Shaking her head lightly, Brennan said, "I don't know which is the more curious statement on which I should focus-your implicit assumption that we'll have children one day who I might be able to nickname after one of my ex-lovers like Sully in the first place, or, by default, the very amusing fact that I feel I wouldn't want to name our daughter 'Catherine', 'Hannah', or any variant there of, after some of _your_ exes."

Looking a bit sheepish, Booth's countenance suddenly changed as he realized what he had said, and Brennan's response to it. "Oh, well, ah-yeah, Bones. About that… I didn't necessarily mean anything by it."

"It's okay, Booth," Brennan said, a wry smile on her lips as she realized how easy her husband was actually making it for her to bring up the very topic of discussion she and Angela had struggled with earlier as far as finding an appropriate way to introduce the topic for discussion.

Shaking his head lightly, Booth said, "No, it's not. I mean, it's not very fair of me to spring something like this on you. And, I, ah, I-I know we haven't exactly talked about it before-"

"Well, technically, we did," Brennan corrected him lightly.

Booth stared at her in confusion. "Uh, we did?" He was quickly running through all the possible random throw away comments and post-coital chats they'd had while cuddling in the past few months to think of which conversation Brennan might be referring to and eventually he came up blank as he asked, "And, when was that again, Bones, because I gotta confess I don't remember-"

"Well, it _has_ been a while," Brennan conceded. "But, _technically_, we did discuss the possibility of us having a child when I wanted to get pregnant via the artificial insemination process before your tumor-"

"Oh," Booth said, now understanding to what Brennan was referring. "Yeah, that."

Brennan nodded.

"I guess, in a way, you're right," Booth said. "We did talk about having a kid back then."

"Yes, we did," Brennan agreed.

"That was a long time ago, though, Bones," Booth said.

"Yes," Brennan repeated with a small nod. "Three years."

"And," Booth said slowly. "A lot's changed since then."

Again, Brennan nodded. "Yes."

"But-"

"But," Brennan said, taking up when Booth let his voice trail off. "But, now I like to think that given the extreme change in the nature of our relationship and the circumstances surrounding it that have occurred in that time period, I find it to be an improvement when I compare now with three years ago. Now, while I admit that my opinions haven't changed regarding the very redeeming attributes you possess as a potential genetic contributor to supplying one-half of my child's DNA, I do think that I'd like to explore other avenues for potential fertilization of my ovum by your sperm."

At her clinical words, Booth flushed a bit. He resisted the urge to make a vague reference back to how it really was more appropriate to use other terminology, despite how imprecise it might be, i.e., his particularly favorite vague descriptor of 'stuff', but Brennan's words were of more interest to him when he translated what she actually meant into English.

"Other avenues for fertilization, ehh, Bones?" Booth said with a grin on his face as he leaned in a bit. He then nodded his head in the direction of the iPod player as it continued playing the U2 playlist which Brennan had been listening to before he came home.

Understanding his smile and words, Brennan nodded as she set down her laptop and then moved closer to Booth. "Yes," she said with a nod. "I believe that I now find the idea of using the insemination process to be much more clinical than I would like." Brennan reached over and pulled Booth towards her, intertwining her fingers behind his head as she added, "I think there is a much more personalized option that we might be able to employ to greater effect that's far cheaper, logistically feasible, and much more fun."

"Uh huh," Booth said, his eyes darkening a bit as he watched Brennan wet her bottom lip. "So, is this your way of saying that you're asking me to make a direct deposit this time, Bones?"

"Mmmmm," Brennan replied as she leaned in to kiss him. "And, if I was, any problems with that?"

"I don't know," Booth said playfully. "I'm just not certain I'm totally on the same page as you, Bones. I mean, is this just your way of trying to seduce me, because if it is, I gotta admit, you probably had me as soon as I walked in and heard 'I Will Follow'."

"I still don't quite understand what mental connection you have with U2 that evokes such an amorous disposition in you, Booth, but-"

At this, Booth laughed.

"But-" Brennan continued smiling. "No, this isn't just about me wishing to initiate an encounter that will culminate in us having intercourse."

"Ahh," Booth nodded knowingly. "Then, this _is_ your way of saying that you still want to have a baby with me, Bones?"

Brennan leaned in and pressed herself against Booth. "I must admit that the idea does have a certain appeal, Booth. Particularly as I said, since our relationship is now at such a point that we don't need to involve any third parties in the process of conceiving a child-"

At Brennan's strange word choice of 'third parties', Booth couldn't help it as his mind darted to another thought, and an unbidden image popped into his mind.

"-and, as I said, setting aside the fact that if we had a daughter, provided that we don't have to name her either Catherine or Hannah-"

At Brennan's unlucky word choice, Booth had to keep himself from tensing and letting his wife know something was wrong as the unbidden image suddenly started to grow stronger.

"-yes, I do think it could be a good idea. I mean, it's not like we're not in a solid, mutually exclusive long-term romantic relationship, so I do think I'd like to explore the idea of having a child with you if you're open to the idea-"

'Long-term relationship.'

The words echoed in Booth's mind as he was suddenly pulled to a different time and place that seemed a world so far away from where he was now-

_Finally, a pair of blue eyes was looking at him in *that* way-the way that he'd been waiting for years to have a pair of blue eyes look at him. The only problem was that the blue eyes that were looking at Booth in the way that he finally wanted to be looked at weren't owned by Brennan. However, if he closed *his* eyes, and didn't hear her voice, and ignored the fact that she smelled like some type of flower, instead of a combination of amber and vanilla like she was supposed to, when he felt her warm lips pressed against the soft skin of his neck, it was almost as if he could pretend-_

"_Hey, still with me there?" her teasing voice came._

_Snapping his eyes open, Booth suddenly couldn't pretend anymore as he knew this was going too far and too fast. Yes, a pair of blue eyes, darkened with want and lust stared back at him from a face that was covered with dark brown hair. But, as she stared back at him, her creamy skin visible but for the parts covered by her black lace bra, Booth knew it that moment that it was the *wrong* person starting at him_, _but that he wasn't quite sure what to do about it-pr. what he *wanted* to do about it.  
><em>

_Fumbling for the words, Booth tensed a bit as he pulled back and said, "Uh, yeah. I'm here. Still here-"_

"_You sure?" came the light reply. "Because, it's okay. I mean, I know this was just supposed to be dinner-"_

"_No," Booth replied, just a bit *too* quickly. "It's okay-"_

"_If you're sure?" came the response. "Because, it's just... well, I've never been the type of girl that's liked wasting time."_

"_Yes," Booth said. "I'm sure. It's just, uh… it's just been a long time-"_

"_Ahh-"_

_There was a shifting of bodies, a rustling of clothing, and hands suddenly moving with much more deliberate action._

"_Well, that explains things a bit."_

"_It does?" Booth asked._

_She nodded as she said, "Yup. And, just FYI, I have no problem with that-"_

"_Oh?"_

"_Nope. As a matter a fact, the only problem I've got is that damn tie you're still wearing."_

_Booth glanced down at the tie, and he briefly flushed with guilt as he realized he was wearing the dark navy pinstripe tie that Brennan had bought him as one of the presents she got him for his last birthday. "What's wrong with my tie?" Booth couldn't help but ask._

_She tugged on it lightly, her finger coming underneath the knot, as she said, "Well, quite frankly, it's boring as hell. It's got no character whatsoever."_

"_Hey, I'll have you know this wasn't a cheap tie-"_

"_I know that," she countered. "I know quality when I see it, Seeley. Which is even more confusing to me as to why you'd spend a shitload of money on a tie like this and just waste it by choosing such a boring ass pattern-"_

"_Hey!" Booth began, instantly defending the tie, and by implicit default, Brennan. "I like this tie. And, I'll have you know that it's a classic-"_

"_Yeah, maybe for my grandfather before he kicked off fifty years go," came the tart reply. A sudden sharp flick of her wrist helped unknot the tie, and she tossed it behind the pair with a grin. "Remind me to throw that away in the morning."_

"_In the morning?"_

"_Mmmm hmmm," came the sultry response. "Unless, of course, you object to me staying after-?"_

"_No," Booth said, shaking his head. "I just… I just don't want there to be any misunderstandings here, Catherine."_

"_Misunderstandings?" she ventured, testing the word on her lips as if it were an experiment in and of itself._

"_Yeah," Booth said, with a firm nod. "I like you-I do. And, I wasn't playing you when I asked you out to dinner. I've- God, I've had more fun tonight than I can remember having in a long, long time. And, although I didn't expect to end up back here after a first date-"_

_She grinned at that. "I was hoping you wouldn't object to that, because, I mean. You're a very good looking guy, Seeley."_

"_Thanks." He stopped and then flashed her one of his well-known, if not muted, signature grins. "You're not so bad yourself." He stopped and then said, his tone changing a bit, "And, I want to be with you right now, but-"_

"_But?"_

"_But, as much as I'd like to be able to, I can't give you anything more than *that* right now," Booth said quietly. "I just… can't."_

"_So, nothing more than 'fun' is on the table at the minute?" Bryar asked._

_Slowly Booth nodded. "I'm sorry I can't offer you more than that right now, but I'm just not ready."_

"_Wow," Bryar asked. "It sounds like you just got out of a long-term relationship."_

"_Not quite-" Booth began to protest._

_Shaking her head, Bryar waved him off. "It's okay. I don't need to know the details if you don't want to talk about it."_

"_There's nothing to talk about really-"_

"_Oh," she asked, looking at him with a measuring stare. "Because, I have to tell you, from what I know of a guy like you… whatever happened to make you this hesitant and reserved… it must've been a hell of a break up."_

"_I-"_

"_It was a nasty breakup, wasn't it?" she asked curiously. "I bet it was to have done this big a number on a guy like you. It… she… whoever she was, she broke your heart didn't she?"_

_Booth blinked once, and then twice, wondering when he became *this* apparent to people. At last, he only said, "All I'll say about it is that you're right. Something did happen recently me with someone that I cared-still care-a lot about. We… we want two different things in life, and you're right. She broke my heart. But, that's it. It's over. It's done. And, I'm moving on, okay?"_

"_Wow," Bryar said. "That… well, that sounds like it was a pretty nasty break up." She paused and then stopped as she added, "I'm so sorry, Seeley. I'm sorry that someone's made you feel like that."_

"_I am, too," Booth said with a sigh, trying to make sense of how in the hell he'd ended up talking to Dr. Catherine Bryar about Brennan's rejection of him. Deciding he'd never have any chance in hell of ever letting Brennan go and making his peace with that act, Booth decided to push all of it-everything from the color of Brennan's eyes to how wonderful her lips felt on his before she got scared and pushed him away that night in front of the Hoover to how he felt his gut clench in panicked angry fear at the thought of Andrew Hacker having a similar conversation with Brennan about him-he resolved to push it out of his mind. This wasn't the time or the place for that. Besides, he'd spent too much time lamenting his lost (or never really materialized, to be more accurate) chance to be with Brennan. Right now, he was here with Catherine, with a woman who wanted him-and, Booth thought, would be all to happy to take what he could give and not ask for more. "But, as I said, it was… complicated," Booth finally managed._

"_Ahh," she said with a nod. "Messy, you mean?"_

"_Complicated," Booth repeated._

_Bryar looked at Booth for a minute, and then with a nod of her own, said, "So, I guess that makes me 'the rebound girl, huh?" Bryar asked with a grin. Booth opened his mouth to protest, and she quickly shook her head, a bright look coming into her eyes as she smiled. "That's okay, Seeley. I'm cool with that. Like I told you before, I've already been married once, and had it go bad, and so I'm not all too certain I want to go looking for my next Romeo. As a matter a fact, I know I'm not looking for anything serious right now. So, if 'fun' is all you can give me, that's fine. Perfect, in fact. We're two consenting adults who are attracted to one another and want to spend some time with one another, so if you're sure*you're* okay with it, I'm perfectly okay with 'just fun', too-"_

_His eyebrows arching in surprise, Booth couldn't help himself as he asked, still a bit suspicious, "Really?" _

_Nodding, Bryar said, "Sure. I mean, you're a good looking guy, in great shape, and obviously more than ready to have some…err, *fun*… oh, damn. You know what I mean right?" She blushed a bit, and Booth couldn't help, but smile at her unexpected embarrassment over making reference to sex…although, for a brief second, Booth couldn't help but think back to how refreshing it was not to be bombarded with such blatant claims about 'sexual intercourse' and 'coitus' and 'satisfying biological urges'… the innuendo was an unexpected but welcome surprise._

_Booth smiled. "I do. I do know what you mean. Perfectly. And-" He paused as he leaned in to kiss her. Bryar's lips eagerly responded to his, and Booth felt a stirring in his groin that surprised him slightly, considering how long it had been since he'd been sexually aroused by the thought or touch of anyone but Brennan. After a few seconds, as Catherine started to deepen the kiss, Booth nodded his head and gestured with his thumb over the back of his shoulder. "My bedroom's back there," Booth said, his voice a bit rough with desire._

"_Lead the way," Bryar said, her own voice hoarse as she smiled at him._

"_Hey, I was an Army Ranger, baby. That's what we do best," Booth said with a cheeky grin and wink at her._

_Bryar laughed and said, "I'm right behind you."_

_His amusement falling away as he looked at her blue eyes, and again, felt a pang of regret that hers weren't the blue eyes he so desperately wanted to see looking at him in *that* way, Booth only hesitated for a second before he felt the need to clarify one more time. "Sure… just… as long we're certain we're on the same page? And, you're okay with that?"_

_It took Bryar a few seconds to understand what Booth was saying. She swallowed once, willing her brain to start processing again-albeit, hopefully only for a few seconds- before she nodded. "Yeah, Seeley. I got it. Fun? Two consenting adults having fun. That's all this is because it's all you can give me, and to be honest, it's all I want from you right now. so that's all good." _

"_Yeah?"_

_Nodding Bryar confirmed. "Sure…" She let her voice trail off before she said playfully, "But, only on one condition?"_

"_And, what's that?' Booth asked with a grin. _

_Tapping his chest with her index finger, Bryar said, "That tie? Tomorrow morning, first thing. We're getting rid of it." She paused and then flashed him another enticing smile. "How about this-I'll buy you a new one, a *better* one to replace it. Deal?"_

_Leaning in to kiss her again, Booth nodded once as he grinned. Before he closed his eyes and tried to pretend that he was with the person he really wanted to be with at that time and in that way, Booth sealed their bargain with a single word. "Deal."_

-and, Booth was jolted back to the present, as that person, the one he had so desperately wished for, longer for, waited for over the years was _finally _staring back at him with the exact look he'd always wanted to see there. Suddenly, Booth felt foolish for allowing his mind to drift to such random thoughts, such unimportant memories. Booth wasn't quite certain why he was allowing himself to think of such things, particularly when they were so meaningless now that he had what he'd always wanted sitting right in front of him-the _person_ he'd wanted sitting right in front of him. Knowing such mistakes were best confined to the past, as there was no point to letting them overwhelm him, Booth pushed away the embarrassment and guilt and reached over for Brennan's hand. The flash of the diamond in her wedding ring catching the light, Booth felt his throat constrict a bit as Brennan, _his wife_, studied him with a strong look of concern evident on her face. However, Booth didn't let her study him long as he took her hand and pulled her close to him, pressing his lips to her neck in a gentle but very determined kiss.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Booth letting his lips and tongue wreck havoc on Brennan's mental processes as they began what Brennan knew Booth had often termed in the past one of their 'Grade-A Prime Makeout Sessions.' A bit worried, particularly as Bono's smooth timbre was still playing softly in the background, Brennan knew that if she let things progress too much further, she and Booth would end up having sex and losing this opportunity to finish discussing something that was quite important to her. A small part of Brennan wondered if that might've been part of Booth's overall goal all along, since he had learned a long time ago that he could quite effectively distract her with sex. However, she wasn't going to be deterred, and so with a reluctant sigh, she pulled away slowly from Booth.

His dark eyes looked at her with interest, and Booth initially thought Brennan was being a bit playful when she pulled away. Leaning in after her to press his advantage, Booth was a bit annoyed when his efforts were stymied by Brennan shaking her head slightly as she pressed a light hand to his chest to still his movements.

"Booth?" she questioned softly.

"Huh, Bones?" Booth finally managed.

"You okay?" Brennan asked. "You seemed-metaphorically speaking, of course-to be very far away from me just now."

"Uhhh, really?" Booth said, leaning back as he took a breath. "Because, I don't know how much closer I can get to you when I have my tongue shoved down your throat as far as it was just a minute ago, Bones-"

Chuckling a bit, Brennan playfully swatted his arm as she said, "I don't mean then. I mean before you started 'putting the moves on me'."

"Oh," Booth said. "Okay."

"And, just to clarify," Brennan said, as she knowingly looked at her husband. "Don't take my cessation of our foreplay activities as a sign that I no longer which to make love, Booth. I just… before we do that, I think we should finish talking about… well, finish talking about things."

Taking a breath, Booth suddenly realized that the issue of starting a family really _was _something that had apparently been on Brennan's mind for some time. Aside from the fact that her lack of very precise language betrayed her nervousness and anxiety over the topic, Booth knew it was something that she must have been thinking about for a while. Brennan was _never_ so tenacious about an idea that had just popped into her brain a short time before they started talking about it. No, obviously, this was something she had been thinking about-and, if Booth had to guess by her level of uncertainty over broaching the matter with him-thinking about a lot. And, so, licking over the idea in his mind, Booth suddenly realized that if it was something that Brennan wanted, then he couldn't think of any good reason why he shouldn't want it, too. Deciding to share such a realization with her, Booth smiled at his wife.

Pushing any thoughts but those of Brennan out of his mind, Booth renewed his resolve and said, "I'm okay, Bones. And, I'm sorry. You're right. We should finish talking about this because it's important, and I was just thinking-"

"About what?" Brennan asked, her voice unusually devoid of it's normal firm and absolutist undertones. "You didn't laugh when I made my joke about the baby's name, Booth-"

He felt something at her using words like that-'the baby'-almost like their child already existed for her as something beyond an abstract concept being kicked around between the two of them. It took Booth a minute to realize what his reaction was as he thought about what Brennan's word choice actually indicated about her opinion on the topic. Yes, apparently Brennan had not only been thinking about this for quite some time, longer than he'd initially thought, apparently she'd already made a decision about it. And, that decision was probably what she was afraid of if her choice didn't agree with Booth's opinion on the matter.

For her, using a term like 'the baby' - not 'fetus' or 'hypothetical offspring' or 'the combined chromosome established from mixing our two genes'… no, Brennan had called it 'the baby.' Not even 'a baby'- but _the _baby. Her baby…_their _baby. For her, the idea was already real, and it wasn't a question of 'if' but merely 'when'. The idea that Brennan was thinking in more concrete and realistic terms about them having a child _and_ verbalizing it to him-it both excited and terrified Booth to no end.

"-and even though I know we have different sense of humors, I thought at the very least you might find it mildly entertaining given the fact that I thought it, and by default, myself as the teller of the joke, to be quite amusing," Brennan finished.

Suddenly, Booth's head snapped up, and he looked at Brennan directly in the eyes. His dark brown stare held her vibrant blue gaze for several seconds, and Brennan could feel the shift in intensity happen between them as Booth's tone took on a very serious edge.

"Is that what you really want, Bones?" Booth asked quietly.

"What?" Brennan replied, a bit uncertain, but with such an important topic, needing Booth to be more specific, as there couldn't be any doubt about _this _point. It was just too important.

"Do you really want to start a family with me?" Booth asked. "Try for a baby?"

Brennan bit back her original direct response, and countered using one of the techniques Booth had taught her over the years by redirecting the pertinent question back on the person who originally asked it.

"Do you?"

Booth looked at her for several more seconds, and then slowly, he nodded. "With you, Bones? Do I want to have a baby with you?"

This time it was Brennan's turn to nod slowly.

Finally, Booth responded, a smile cracking his face that also worked to break splinter the heavy tension that had settled between them. "Yeah, Bones. I do. Always. Anytime."

Tilting her head, Brennan dared to risk a small smile of her own. "Really?"

Booth nodded. "Yeah."

This time, it was Brennan who reached out to pull Booth towards her. A devilish glint coming into her eyes, Brennan only dropped his hands when she took her own, quickly reached down to the hem of her dark red t-shirt, and hastily yanked it off over her head. Brennan wasn't wearing a bra, dressed as she was in casual knock-around clothes. She smiled as she watched Booth eyes flicker at her breasts, and turning her hand palm-up, she curved her index finger as she gestured towards him.

"Then, I see no reason not to resume our earlier efforts, do you, Booth?" Brennan asked slyly, her throat going a bit dry as she smiled at him again. "That is, I believe now would be an excellent opportunity to commence you making one of those 'direct deposits' that you couldn't make three years ago-"

Surprised by her words, Booth made a face as he said, "Where did you _get _that one from because I know that you didn't get it just from me tossing it out there randomly a few minutes ago?"

"Not telling," Brennan murmured, as she pulled him down on top of her, even though Booth refused to think back to the last time he had heard that euphemism in response to impregnating Brennan, it had been from a brain-tumor induced animated hallucination of Stewie Griffin. He suspected it might've been from Angela, but Booth was all to happy to let Brennan have her small win when she reached for his belt buckle and started to pull it loose.

"Oh, then. I guess I don't really have a problem with that right now," Booth grinned in between kisses as Brennan looked up at him and smiled mischievously right back at him.

Those were the last words that were spoken by either Booth or Brennan for several minutes, as the only sounds that were being made by the pair were a ruffling of clothing and a creaking of the couch springs as they continued to shift to achieve more preferable positions. These sounds were interspersed with the more personal pattern of rapid breaths, breathy gasps, and low moans as the pair began to transition from foreplay to the main event.

However, in the grand tradition of cell phones having rotten timing for interrupting Booth and Brennan's sex life, when Booth heard his phone began to tweet from across the room where he had left it on the bookshelf closest to the entry way, his head shot up. Once again, it was Brennan who groaned when she noticed how her husband's attentions had been diverted elsewhere.

Although a small part of her brain thought she was experiencing an extreme sense of déjà vu as she tried to pull Booth back down to her, Brennan murmured, "Leave it."

Laughing at her, Booth shook his head as he kissed her. "Can't, Bones."

"Why not?" she whined. "Just for a couple of minutes-"

"But, it might be important-"

"More important than me?"

Booth leaned down and kissed her. "It could be a case. Parker. Lots of stuff-"

"That can't wait two minutes?" Brennan insisted.

Pulling away, Booth gave her a grin before he winked at her and said, "Hold that thought… and position. I'll be right back, and unless it's Parker, I'll get rid of them long enough to finish this. Okay?"

Brennan scowled, as she narrowed her eyes, but said nothing in response. As Booth rolled off the couch, and trotted over to grab his phone, he called out playfully, "Now, don't look at me like that. We both know if that was the lab, you'd never would've ignored it, Bones."

"I would've if I were about to climax, Booth!" Brennan muttered. "At least for two damn minutes…."

Booth was biting back a laugh as he reached the phone. Glancing at the caller ID, he realized the number was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it was he opened the phone with a playful smile on his face.

"Booth-"

"Seeley?"

And, as soon as Booth heard that single word-that _single_ word in that very familiar voice-he knew he was in trouble. Big trouble.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, Brennan had showered and changed. She shuffled out into the family room and began to absentmindedly pick up the mess that she and Booth had made before they had been interrupted. The unsatisfying conclusion to that particular exchange still left a bitter taste in her mouth as she thought back to the phone call Booth had received, how he looked as he paled when the blood drained out of his face, how tense his body became as he quickly ended the call, stumbled into their bedroom for a quick change of clothes, and the left without barely a handful of words in explanation for his dramatic mood shift.<p>

_Yes, he was all right. _

_No, it wasn't Parker or a case._

_No, it wasn't Jared. _

_Yes, he needed to leave. Now. Right now. As soon as possible._

_Yes, he was sure he was all right._

_No, he didn't think he'd be long. _

_No, he didn't need or want her to come with him. _

_Yes, he was sure he needed to take care of this by himself. _

_Yes, he'd call if there were an unexpected changes that were going to keep him away longer than he thought._

And, with a quick kiss, Booth had then bolted out of the apartment without so much as a backward glance over his shoulder. Yes, that disturbed Brennan more than the fact that their lovemaking had been so rudely and so jarringly interrupted. But, as she continued to straighten up the family room, with a nagging thought, Brennan realized she didn't know what, if anything, she could do about it.

With a sigh, she turned off the TV, grabbed her laptop off the table, and headed back to their bedroom to work a bit more before it was time to call it a night and go to sleep-hopeful that Booth would return back then and reassure the insecure thoughts that were starting to bubble to the surface of Brennan's brain.

* * *

><p>On the way from their apartment to the hospital-the same hospital that Booth had brought Brennan with him to several days before when it had been Jared who interrupted their sex life-once the initial panic had worn off, Booth immediately felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he realized how unfair it had been to just leave Brennan like that. Promising himself that he would make it up to her, Booth headed on autopilot towards the floor and room number he'd been given.<p>

Eventually, he reached the door and gave it a sharp rap-not bothering to wait for permission to enter-before pushing the door open and entering the room.

A pair of familiar blue eyes stared back at him expectantly, and for a brief second, Booth wondered if blue eyes were going to be the death of him.

Brown eyes stared at blue for a minute before she nodded slowly and said, "Hello, Seeley."

Booth could only manage a single word in response. "Hannah."

She smiled at that, ignoring the sharpness in his voice as he said her name. "You came." Her smiled broadened at that and said, "I didn't think you would."

"You asked," Booth said, crossing his arms. "When you called, you said it was important. So, yeah, I came."

"I appreciate that," Hannah said softly. "I'd be lying it I said I was surprised that you came though. After all that happened between us, especially after that night-the last time I saw you-I thought that maybe you wouldn't come." She stopped and then smiled again, "But, I should've known better. I shouldn't have doubted that you'd do the right thing. Because, that's what you do, Seeley. You're a good man, and you always do your duty-always do the right thing."

Sighing heavily, Booth said, "Hannah, why am I here? Why did you call me?"

Nodding slowly, Hannah said, "I've been… I've been here for a while, Seeley, on bed rest. And, so, I've had a _lot _of time to think. There's not much else to do after a while when you've lived the type of year that I have-" She paused and then looked over at him, "But, then again, you know that better than most, don't you?"

"Hannah-" Booth said, as much as a warning to hurry up and say what she needed to say than to take her chances by bringing up the past-something that Booth was very, very certain he wanted to remain _exactly _where it was… in the past.

"Anyway, I've been doing a lot of thinking, like I said. And, the reason I called you is because I keep coming back to this one thing… and I don't want to make another mistake."

Sighing again, Booth absentmindedly ran his hand through the back of his hair before he replied, "Hannah, if this is about us… I-I, well, I know last spring that you said you believed we were just done for a little bit-like we were taking a break or a time out or something after that night, but you need to know-things have changed since then for me. A lot."

Leveling her gaze at him, Hannah nodded slowly. "Oh, I realize that, Seeley, more than you can possibly know-"

"No," Booth said, slowly shaking his head. "No, I don't think you do, Hannah." He paused, took a breath, and then looked at her slightly apologetic as he said, "I got married, Hannah."

Now, of all the things Booth could have thrown at Hannah Burley, _that _particular confession wasn't something she had ever, in a million years anticipated as a possibility. Hannah always figured that if something like _that _had ever happened to Booth, she would've heard about it in a split second. The surprise obviously shown on her face, and at last, she looked up at Booth, met his gaze, and questioned, "Married?"

Booth merely nodded in response.

Slowly, as if processing the significance of his words seemed to take an inordinate amount of time to occur, Hannah finally managed to reply, "Oh, wow." She stopped, took a breath and titled her head as she then added, "Ummm, wow." Hannah nodded her head slowly and then met Booth's stare as she said, slightly recovering from the surprise he had just given her, "Wow, you're right. I-I… I, yeah. I didn't know that. But, even still, ummm-wow. Just… wow. You're, uhh, you're married now?"

Nodding slowly, Booth lifted up his hand, and Hannah saw the dull glint of a band of gold shining in the room's low lights bounce of his ring finger. Booth himself smiled as he glanced at the ring, and thought of Brennan, before he turned back to Hannah and said, "Yeah, and, I'm good, Hannah. Happy. _Really _happy."

Slowly nodding her head again, Hannah replied, "Okay… wow. That's uh… great, Seeley. Really good. Just… wow…. Ummm… okay. Just give me a sec."

Booth looked on at her in concern, his eyes darting to the heart monitor that stood next to her bed. Hannah's pulse and heart rate had increased, and Booth frowned as he noticed her go a bit pale. "You okay, Hannah? Do you need me to call someone for you?"

Hannah shook her head as she took a slow breath and said, "Umm, yeah… or no, I mean-yes, I'm okay, and no, I don't need you to call anyone for me, Seeley. I just-you just caught me off guard a bit, that's all." She paused, took several more deep breaths, and as the machine began to lessen in its twitter as her heart rate decreased, Hannah looked over at him and smiled. "Wow, Seeley. I, uhh, I never thought that you'd be the one to drop a bombshell on me when I called you earlier."

"Sorry to catch you off guard like that, Hannah-"

"It's okay-"

Booth nodded. He then paused before he glanced at his watch, and realized that he didn't really want to be here right now, but longed to be back at home, in bed with Brennan-with his _wife_. Looking up at Hannah, Booth nodded as he said, "So, umm, Hannah-I don't mean to rush you, but why did you call me?"

Her eyes narrowing in suspicion, Hannah gestured as she waved around the room absentmindedly. Still, it was clear that comprehension hadn't dawned on Booth's face, and so Hannah replied, "Well, I should think that should be fairly obvious, Seeley, given where I am right now"

Booth, still confused, asked, "A hospital?"

"Uh, yeah," Hannah said slowly. "Or, more precisely, the O/B floor of a hospital."

Booth took a few precious seconds for Hannah's words to sink in, but the confusion was still apparent on his face as he repeated, "O/B?"

"Yeah, Seeley," Hannah said quietly. "'O/B' as in obstetrics."

At those words, Booth's head suddenly snapped up. "Wait, wait, wait." He waved his hand to emphasize his points as Booth said, "Wait a minute, Hannah." He paused and looked at her directly, his gaze heavy as it fell upon her before he said, "What _exactly _are you trying to tell me, Hannah?"

Nodding slowly, Hannah didn't so much as flinch as she met his gaze and responded to his question with some of the most damning words Booth knew she could toss out at him. "Well, for starters, Seeley? We _really_ need to talk."

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p>

* * *

><p>AN**:** Since I know the majority of my readers well enough to know by now how this is going to go in fairly short order, particularly once everyone reads the end of this chapter, I feel it necessary to give everyone a very small, but pointed, piece of suggested advice, which is as follows: patience is a virtue, and remember, perhaps it's not the best idea to start castigating Booth and forming that lynch mob quite yet, huh? He's innocent until proven guilty, right? So, stay tuned. ;)


	5. Ch 4: Two Conversations

Revisiting a Big Mistake

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: Mixing sex and alcohol can have disastrous consequences, especially when a face from the past returns with a secret that threatens Booth and Brennan's new relationship and recent marriage. Set post-"Blackout in the Blizzard." Very AU.

* * *

><p>Chapter 4 – Two Conversations<p>

* * *

><p>To say that she'd been caught off-guard by the identity of her early morning visitor was to put mildly. Standing in front of a large three-dimensional topographical map of the eastern seaboard, Dr. Catherine Bryar looked up when a sharp knock sounded on her office door. After indicating that her visitor should come in, Bryar held the stylus to the computer tablet in mid-air when she saw a familiar looking brunette enter her office at NOAA's Office of Oceanic and Atmospheric Research in Silver Spring, Maryland. Bryar was in the middle of overlaying a map of new Gulf Stream ocean current data over a rendering of the expected spawning patterns of several endangered species of fish when Dr. Temperance Brennan interrupted her. Even in the dim lights of the room, lowered so that she could see the trending patterns of the two sets of data that she was trying to overlay, Bryar could tell that Brennan was tense and hesitant—two words she'd never thought she would've ever used to describe the forensic anthropologist even though the duration of their acquaintance had been too short for her to get to know Brennan very well.<p>

"Uhhhh, Dr. Brennan," Bryar said, curiously tilting her head as she still held her stylus in mid-air.

"Dr. Bryar, good morning," Brennan said with a curt nod. "My apologies for disturbing your work."

Moving towards her desk, Bryar set down the tablet and stylus she'd been holding and flicked on the office's overhead lights. Brennan blinked a few times in the doorway as her pupils adjusted to the increased illumination. Waving her in, Bryar said, "Ummmm, it's not a problem." She stopped, stared at the forensic anthropologist for a moment, and then tried to recover from her surprise as much as she was able to do so since the last person she had expected to come trotting through her office door was Brennan. "Come in, please."

Nodding, Brennan took a tentative step in the office. She was dressed in an unusually prim outfit for Brennan, as far as Bryar could remember the other woman's style—a black pinstripe pantsuit, simple white button down shirt, and plain black pumps. Their severity contrasted significantly with Bryar's square cut emerald green knit top, khaki-colored chinos, and black-thong sandals. A bit put off by Brennan's unexpected appearance, Bryar was torn between surprise and curiosity as she gestured at her visitor and said, "Feel free to take a seat, if you'd like."

"Thank you," Brennan said, as she moved to sit in one of the two chairs that ringed Bryar's desk. Bryar didn't sit behind her desk, but sat on the edge of it instead, her move matching the casualness of her informal dress just as Brennan's stiff posture echoed the propriety of her person. The pair was quiet for a minute, each woman looking at the other in an attempt to size up the other, almost as if they were staring at an opponent prior to the beginning of a competition. Eventually, her visual study of Bryar completed when Brennan confirmed in her own mind that she hadn't missed any pertinent details about the marine biologist, Brennan looked up and broke their stalemate by speaking first. Deciding that a bit of casual chatter might be a way to disarm Bryar and put her at ease, Brennan began, "It appeared that when I interrupted your work that you were making some progression on something related to the spawning patterns of the shortnose sturgeon, At least, it appeared so from what I could see in the brief moment between when my arrival impeded your progress and you shut off the three-dimensional imaging software."

Impressed, Bryr nodded. "You've got a good eye. That's exactly what I was doing." She stopped and after a few seconds smiled as she said, "I had no idea you were so well-versed in such topics related to marine biology."

"I dabble in a number of sciences out of pure intellectual curiosity that range far beyond osteology or anthropology," Brennan explained simply.

"Ahh," Bryar said. Again, her response trailed off leaving the familiar, heavy silence weighing down between the pair of scientists. At last, Bryar glanced at the clock on her wall, knew she didn't have a tremendous amount of time to waste unless she wanted to work through her lunch hour, and sighed. Looking at the forensic anthropologist, she nodded at her as she said, "Dr. Brennan, even though I admittedly don't know you very well, I think I feel comfortable in saying that I know you to be a forthright individual—"

"Indeed," Brennan concurred with another nod of your head.

"And, so I hope you won't take offense if I cut to the chase and ask what you're doing here?" Bryar finished, ignoring Brennan's interruption.

Staring at her for a minute, blue eyes met and held the gaze of a very curiously identical pair of blue eyes. At last, Brennan responded. "No," Brennan shook her head. "You're correct, Dr. Bryar. Such frankness won't cause me to take any offense. I actually appreciate such candor, and I apologize again for not being able to deliver it myself given that it's normally something in which I've often been told by others that I sometimes indulge in too much."

"No apologies are necessary," Bryar said, a bit of relief coming into her voice when she determined that the hostility with which she knew Brennan was quite capable of delivering would not be forthcoming. Happy to know that her direct approach seemed to be appealing to both women, Bryar nodded and asked, "So, in the interests of candor, perhaps it's a good idea for you to just tell me what I can do for you? What brings you all the way out to Silver Spring, Dr. Brennan?"

Although Brennan knew what Bryar's question would be—indeed she'd been anticipating it since she'd made the decision to come all the way to see the marine biologist instead of going straight into the lab that morning—it still didn't mean she was any more ready than she'd thought she'd be to answer the question when actually confronted with it. Thus, Brennan, again, somewhat uncharacteristically, unintentionally displayed a bit more of her uncertainty than she'd wished as she bit her lip. A thousand thoughts went going through her mind as she tried to feel comfortable enough to finally verbalize the line of inquiry she'd spent the entire commute from the Jeffersonian to the NOAA research office practicing in her head.

Bryar noticed Brennan's atypical response instantly. For her part, partly because she felt sorry for the socially inept scientist, and partially to speed her on her way, Bryar pointed at her suit. "Is there something I can help the Jeffersonian out with? Is that why you're here, a case, maybe? Forgive me for making an assumption, but it looks like you might be headed to court today. You didn't need to touch base with me about anything regarding your testimony on the Redmon case, right?" As soon as the thought was in her head, although it had popped in quite randomly, Bryar frowned as she said, "I have to admit, unless I've forgotten something, I'm fairly certain I haven't missed anything that's been scheduled about Grace Redmon's appeal, right?" She stopped, grabbed a planner off of her desk, flipped through it several times, and then tapped her finger on a specific page. "No, I didn't think so. I'm not scheduled to have a follow-up with Ms. Julian about my deposition until the 19th, so we're good." Looking up at Brennan, she breathed a large sigh of relief as she said, "Not that I don't have the greatest respect for Ms. Julian, but between you, me, and the wall, that is one lady I really don't want to have unhappy with me."

"While your confession is actually between me, yourself, and the four walls of your office, not just the one, I agree with your sentiment. She can be very intimidating when she chooses to be," Brennan told the marine biologist, finally having found her tongue again as the two women found a common point of reference over the intimidating personage of the crusty federal prosecutor from New Orleans. "I've worked with her many times over the years in the course of my caseload with the FBI, and she sometimes still takes a bit of getting used to," Brennan confided in Bryar.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Bryar responded with a knowing look. "Last year when I gave my original testimony, I apparently said the wrong thing during the final hour of an afternoon court session…and, I guess I didn't use my 'big girl words' on cross-exam with Redmond's defense attorney, and she was so pissed off at me. I felt so bad afterwards that if Seeley hadn't take me out of a drink to calm me down and give me a pep talk, I think I might've spent the night crying, and there would've been no way I could've made it through redirect the next morning—"

At the mention of Booth's name, Brennan couldn't help it as she tensed up even further than she already was. Bryar saw her reaction immediately, despite the fact that Brennan tried to downplay it as much as she could, and a bit of insight suddenly filtered through to the marine biologist.

"Ahhh," Bryar said.

"What?" Brennan immediately countered, her head snapping over to look at Bryar.

"I see," Bryar said with a knowing nod. "So, this isn't a professional call, then?"

"Why do you say that?" Brennan immediately asked, slowly uncrossing and re-crossing her legs in a move that was the closest to fidgeting of which she could ever be found guilty.

Bryar chuckled, "Now, now, Dr. Brennan. I may not be as good at reading people as Seeley is, but as soon as I said his name and referenced one of our dates, your body went as rigid as the bill on a swordfish. So, perhaps, as I said before, we could cut the crap, and just get to what's what…I'm thinking combined with your body language and your previous reaction when I saw you a few days ago at the Hoover Building that you're here because of something to do with him, right?"

Slowly, Brennan nodded, exhaling a long breath that she'd been holding. "Yes," she admitted. "You're right. And, again, as I seem to be making a very bad habit of it, I apologize for not being more forthright given your busy schedule upon my arrival. However, I must preface the next portion of our conversation with the confession that I find this is an extremely difficult topic for me to discuss publicly."

"Oh?" Bryar asked, arching an eyebrow.

Brennan nodded again slowly and said, "Yes. It is."

"Why?"

"Because," Brennan explained. "I've never been one for communicating my personal issues with people that I know well and consider to be friends, let alone a stranger like yourself. But, given the recent turn of events, I've decided I don't really have a choice, and so, I-I…I…the reason I'm here is because I need to ask you a question, Dr. Bryar."

"Sure," Bryar said. "You can ask me anything—"

"That's quite generous of you," Brennan observed, somewhat caught off guard by the marine biologist's apparent openness. "And, in the interests of such honesty, I find I must admit that I hadn't expected you to be so accommodating once I'd made my request, Dr. Bryar."

"Wait a second," Bryar said with a smile, interrupting Brennan. "I only said that you can ask me anything, Dr. Brennan, but I do reserve the right not to answer said question until I've heard what it is—"

Brennan looked at the woman for several seconds and then nodded. "Fair enough," Brennan conceded. Taking a deep breath, she began, "You know that Booth and I have been partners for a number of years."

"I do," Bryar said. "I remember that from when I initially met you when you thought I was a suspect in the murder of Jazz Gunn."

"Correct," Brennan said. "I'm not certain if you also know, but I'm aware that you and Booth…had some type of personal relationship around that same time period."

"We went out a few times, yeah," Bryar said with a small shrug. "It was fun. He was fun. He's a great guy, but I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that."

"No, I don't," Brennan replied. "I'm quite aware of Booth's redeeming qualities, both from a professional and a personal standpoint—and then some."

"Well, then, I'm also sure I don't have to tell you that at the time we dated that he was still dealing with all that fallout from his last breakup. So, whatever you want to call the little thing between us, it was strictly casual because of that, by the way," Bryar said.

Brennan paled a bit at Bryar's words as she said, "Booth told you he had just broken up with someone when you started dating?"

"Well," Bryar said, carefully choosing her words. "I don't think I'm telling any tales out of school that Seeley'd feel uncomfortable with me sharing with you, since you probably know more about that relationship than I did, because he never really went into details, but suffice to say, yeah—he was in a pretty bad place when we were seeing each other. Now, this next bit is just my own personal interpretation, but I'm fairly certain that his last girlfriend broke his heart. So, he wasn't ready for more at that point that we were seeing each other—which is why we kept things very, very casual."

"And, that was okay with you?" Brennan asked.

"For a guy like Seeley? Hell, yeah," Bryar said, a smile on her face clearly growing as she reflected on some memories of their time together. "He told me what he could give me, I accepted, and we had fun together. We purposely kept things casual, which was fine with me, at the time—"

"But, you never tried to pursue anything of a more serious nature?" Brennan asked.

Bryar shook her head slowly. "No, and don't think it was because of lack of interest on my part, either. But, the timing—it just never worked out for the two of us, you see? By the time I think he might've been ready to try for something more serious, he ended up going back into the service, and he was gone for almost a year. We parted on good terms, and kept in contact via the occasional email—I was still worried about how he was doing in the warzone, you know?"

_No, I don't_, Brennan thought to herself, a pang of guilt cutting her at a particularly sore spot in her psyche. _I don't because I was too selfish to do what any normal human being would do when a loved one went into a combat zone. No wonder he met Hannah when he did, and they had their relationship. From what it sounds like you're telling me, if it hadn't been Hannah, it probably would've been someone else_—_anyone but me because I was too stupid to take what he was offering when I had the chance. _Brennan had to force herself to stop going down a well-worn litany of self-punishment that she'd spent months castigating herself about—_None of that matters now, though, Brennan so cut it out, _she thought, as she glanced down at the ring that shined back at her from her ring finger where Booth had placed it on her hand. _None of that matters now. It's in the past, and it's done, and everything worked out in the end because you're with him now, and he's with you, and you're married, Brennan_—_so, just stop it. _

"And, so, aside from email, you never tried to restart your relationship with Booth?" Brennan finally managed to ask, for lack of any other question that came to mind as she struggled with her thoughts.

Narrowing her eyes with a sad smile, Byrar shook her head. "Now, I didn't say that."

"Oh?" Brennan asked, somewhat surprised by the unexpected answer to the improvised question. "Then, what did you say?"

Bryar looked at her for a minute, and when Brennan didn't back down, the marine biologist finally conceded. "We met for coffee once after he came back, but by that point, it was too late. I'd missed my chance, because I found out that he'd met someone when he was in Afghanistan, and that it was serious. Seeley also told me that while he was grateful to me for how I'd helped him in the bad place he was in before he was left, he wasn't interesting in anything I had to offer beyond friendship." Again, Bryar's words trailed off as she replayed the awkward conversation she'd had with Booth in her mind. Pushing the maudlin thoughts out of her memory, Bryar forced herself to refocus and looked at Brennan as she finished, "So, after that one time, before last week, I hadn't seen him since last year."

"Right," Brennan said, swallowing the lump that had grown in her throat as she reflected on all that had gone wrong between she and Booth—and how narrowly they'd missed finding one another but for a freak snowstorm on St. Patrick's Day. _It's almost enough to make one want to take up some type of quasi religious affinity, like Deism, _Brennan thought wryly. _Almost, but not quite. _ Nodding at Bryar, she said, "So, about that…the reason I'm here, Dr. Bryar, is—can you tell me what you needed to talk to Booth about?" She paused, hating that she had to go to a third source for information about her husband. However, each time she'd tried to broach the issue of Bryar, Booth had swiftly found some way to change the subject. _It's not that I think he's hiding anything from me by avoiding the topic of discussion, but he won't tell me anything either, and his stress levels have continued to increase dramatically since that day, I don't know how else to help him. I need information. Now, it's true that could just be a coincidence since the situation with Jared had deteriorated quite substantially since this, but I need to be certain. I want to help him, because that's what wives do for husbands, right? But, I can't help him if I don't know what's going on, and thus can figure out a way *to* help him if I don't know what's bothering him. It's not like you had a lot of choices, Brennan. _"You're right," she added, as Bryar studied her. "Like I said before, I'm here because it's personal. Ever since you arrived at his office looking for him, something's been bothering Booth, and I'm greatly concerned."

At this, Bryar sighed and then looked up at Brennan. "You care about him a tremendous amount, don't you?"

"I love him," Brennan said simply. "I love him very much, and he's in pain, and I want to try to help him, but he won't talk to me about it, so I don't know how to fix things, or, at the very least, make them better for him."

Brennan's impromptu confession caught Bryar off-guard. "I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan," Bryar said. "I, ahh, I think I need a minute."

"Of course—"

Her head snapping up, as her eyes narrowed at Brennan, Bryar said, the incredulity clear in her voice, "I'm sorry, but did you just admit that _you _love _Seeley_?"

Brennan slowly nodded.

"Wow," Bryar said. She looked away from Brennan for a minute and then looked back after several seconds. "And, have you told him all this?"

"Booth?"

Bryar nodded again.

"That I love him?" Brennan clarified.

"Yes," Bryar replied.

"Of course," Brennan said simply. "After all, it's customary that a wife tell her husband that she loves him in our culture where companionate marriage is the traditional norm, is it not?"

Bryar's eyes widened even further at Brennan's words. "Whoa, wait…did you just say what I think you said?"

"Since I'm not certain how you interpreted my words, you're going to have to be more specific," Brennan told the marine biologist indulgently.

"Did you just insinuate that you and Seeley are married?" Bryar asked, the shock evident in her voice.

Slowly, Brennan nodded as she lifted her hand somewhat proudly, albeit a bit self-consciously. She blushed a bit as she said, "Yes, we are."

"Ohhhh, okay," Bryar said as she stood and moved to her chair, suddenly feeling the need to sit down. "Wow. I never saw that one coming." Lifting her head, she looked over at Brennan as she nodded, "Was this a recent thing?"

"Fairly," Brennan said. "Why?"

"Just curious," Bryar replied. "Seeley didn't mention it when we got coffee." She stopped and then shook her head. "Of course, it's not like I gave him much of a chance to tell me about it even if he had wanted to mention it, anyway."

"Meaning?" Brennan asked with an arch of her eyebrows.

Sitting back in her chair, Bryar said, "I'm not certain my answer's going to be very helpful to you or not, Dr. Brennan. I'm not certain how what I needed to talk to Seeley about—get his advice on, really—could've stressed him out to the levels you've described him as having been lately."

"Okay," Brennan said. "Why don't you explain to me, if you feel it appropriate, and feel comfortable enough to share it with me what you needed to talk to him about, and we'll see if it might be what's bothering Booth or not after all?"

Sighing, Bryar said, "I needed some advice, Dr. Brennan, and I didn't know who else to talk to about it—"

"About what?"

"I-I...I have a sister," Bryar began. "An older sister, and normally, she's always been the kind of person who takes care of herself. But, the last year's been really tough for her. She's gone through a couple of really rough patches, and now she's in this relationship with this guy who isn't that bad when he isn't—" Her voice trailed off, becoming thick with emotion as she said, "Look, I won't bore you with the details. But, suffice to say this guy that my sister seems to be in this love-hate relationship with has been a bit too much on the hate side lately, and although she won't confirm it, I think he's hurting her. It's too dangerous for her to be around him, and—"

"And, so, because you believe her to be a victim of domestic abuse, you went to Booth….?" Brennan prompted.

"To find out if there was anything I can do—as a third-party, mind you—because I've tried talking her until I'm blue in the face, and she won't do anything about it. She says she can handle it," Bryar stopped, her voice becoming a bit thick with emotion again. "She, uhhh, when we were growing up, she was always the tough one—there was nothing that ever scared her, and she always would take these brilliantly stupid chances, and now that we're adults, she's… she's doing the same thing—she does it in both her professional life as well as her personal life—and I'm just afraid that this guy she's with—he…don't get me wrong. He's handsome, smart, charming, funny, definitely knows how to show her a good time when he wants to, but when things get nasty, they get _really _nasty. And, one of these days, I'm…I'm just terrified I'm going to get a call from the police asking me to come and ID her body. And, I'd never forgive myself if that happened, and I didn't try to do everything I could in my power to have avoided it, okay?"

"Domestic violence is a tricky thing," Brennan said gently. "Particularly when the person being abused won't admit that they're being abused so that proper assistance can be obtained to help get them out of the situation in which they've found themselves."

"I know that," Bryar said softly. "And, anyway, that's what Seeley and I talked about—that's it. So, I'm not really certain why that would've been enough to affect him to the levels of distress that you've described—unless I've missed something, right?"

Brennan considered Bryar's words and then slowly shook her head. "No, I don't think you've missed anything. I think your analysis seems accurate, and, as such, the only conclusion I can make is that, as I've suspected, _I'm _the one whose missed something, after all—and it appears that it's something quite significant."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more assistance, Dr. Brennan," Bryar said truthfully.

Looking up at her, Brennan nodded sympathetically. "So am I, Dr. Bryar—so am I."

* * *

><p>Later that night, Brennan was sitting on the couch of her apartment when she heard the keys turn in the deadbolt and the front door open. She took a small sip of the whiskey she was imbibing and reassuringly palmed the cut-glass old-fashioned highball goblet out of which she was drinking. After a few seconds, Booth came into the family room and gave her a weary smile of greeting.<p>

"Hey, Bones," he nodded at her.

"Hello," Brennan said.

Coming towards her, he plopped down on the couch next to her with a heavy thud. He pulled her towards him in a large hug and rested his head on her shoulder, upsetting the laptop that had been situated on her knees as they shifted on the couch. Brennan did her best not to let the drink she had in her hand spill or the computer fall as Booth let out a heavy sigh.

Looking at her with the drink in her hand, he arched an eyebrow at her uncharacteristic move.

"What's that?" he asked, the interest clear in his voice.

"Canadian whiskey," Brennan said simply. _After the day I've had, I needed a drink, and the Scotch and tequila at your place really wasn't going to do it for me._ "Neat."

"Ahh," Booth said. "So, that's why you texted me to meet you here instead of going to my place, huh? Better booze?"

"Something like that," Brennan mused. She was reluctant to admit the real reason she'd broken their pattern of spending time at whosever apartment was closer on any given night. Having returned to the lab after her conversation with Bryar, Brennan hadn't been of much use, and given the fact that it was a slow day with no pressing homicide investigations, Brennan had followed the lead of Hodgins and Angela and decided to leave early and work from home. Brennan had intended to return to her home office, perhaps to do some writing when she'd come home a couple of hours earlier. However, she never quite made it past her couch, much beyond the distance that was needed to go to the kitchen to pour herself a drink. _I just needed to be someplace where I could think and try to figure out what in the hell is going on with you, Booth. I know I'm missing something, I just don't know what it is, and since you won't tell me_— "You want some?"

Lifting his head from her shoulder, Booth nodded. "Yeah. Share? I just want a taste, to, ahh, wet my beak, ya know?"

Slowly, Brennan passed him the glass. He then proceeded to drink the remaining inch of amber liquid in a slow, but steady, swallow. When he'd finished, he glanced down at the empty bottom of the glass that now stared back at him. Looking over at Brennan, he smiled sheepishly as he said, "Sorry."

"That was more than a taste, Booth," Brennan frowned. "I think you did more than wet your proverbial beak. You damn near drowned it." Lightly shoving him with her shoulder, she pushed him in the direction of the kitchen and shoved him lightly off of the couch. "Go get some more."

"All right, all right," Booth said in mock exasperation. "There's no need to get so feisty, Bones."

"You drank all my whiskey—can you blame me if that makes me feel feisty, Booth?" Brennan asked, slightly annoyed.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he grumbled as he walked to the place in the kitchen that served as Brennan's bar. "God, you are so bossy where bones and booze are concerned, you know that?" he called over his shoulder. If Brennan had a retort, he didn't hear it as he went to the place where he saw Brennan had left the bottle of whiskey out. Lifting the bottle of Crown Royal from the counter, he poured a generous amount into Brennan's glass, did the same for himself in a new one, and then returned to the couch with them both. Handing hers to Brennan, he reached out to clink their glasses in a toast as he said, "Cheers, huh?"

Brennan allowed her glass to clink against Booth's in a loud, but clear chime as the two crystal glasses reverberated against one another. Withdrawing her hand, Brennan took a small sip and lowered her glass. For his part, Booth again drained his glass as Brennan watched. As he did so, she frowned at his action.

Noticing her facial expression, Booth arched an eyebrow in response. "What?"

"I didn't know you had such an affinity for Canadian blended whiskey," Brennan observed dryly.

Booth shrugged his shoulders as he said, "I have an affinity for many types of whiskey, and in the mood I'm in right now, that extends to just about any type of liquor, Bones." He paused and then asked, "What about you? Rough day in Squintville or something?"

Thinking back to the rather unsatisfying and troublesome conversation with Bryar, but not wanting to mention it to Booth quite yet, Brennan nodded. "Something like that, yes."

"Some dead medieval French guy being true to form and still being a pain in the ass about you getting an ID on him from Limbo?" Booth asked, the honesty of his interest clear in his voice.

"The current case I'm working on is proving…problematic, yes," Brennan agreed.

"Want to talk about it?" Booth offered with a small smile.

Brennan slowly shook her head, pleased that he had offered to talk about her apparent issues, despite his own distressed mindset. However, like Booth she wasn't quite ready to talk about what was really bothering her yet. "It's sweet that you offered, but I'm quite certain it would bore you, Booth."

"You sure?" Booth asked. "I know sometimes talking things out helps you get things straight in your head, so even if I don't understand half of what in the hell you're trying to explain to me, that's okay, Bones."

Leaning over, Brennan gave him a soft kiss on the lips. Pulling back, she smiled as she said, "As I said, the offer is quite appreciated, but no, I'm fine for now, Booth." She stopped and then nodded at him, "What about you… are you okay?"

Booth stared at her for several seconds, holding her intent gaze. Since he'd unexpectedly left the previous night, true to his word, Booth hadn't been gone that long. However, when he returned, it was late, and Brennan had already gone to bed, even if she hadn't fallen asleep yet. After a quick shower, he'd crawled into bed wearing only his boxers, and Brennan had immediately gravitated towards the new source of warmth once he was settled down. Wrapping her body around the contour of Booth's, Brennan rested her head on his chest and waited for him to say something. However, aside from gently brushing a kiss on her head, Booth had said nothing the entire night. At some point, Brennan knew she drifted off to sleep and moved during the night, for, when she woke up, she was on her side of the bed. Glancing at the clock, Brennan saw it was slightly before their alarm was set to go off, but not terribly so. Sniffing, the scent of brewing coffee hit Brennan's nose and made it scrunch in appreciation. Slowly getting up with a yawn, Brennan reached over and turned off the alarm clock since it appeared Booth was already awake. She contemplated a bit of morning yoga before she started the day since Booth was up anyway. Once she'd finished her exercise, showered, and changed, Booth was already dressed, had eaten, and seemed to be half way out the door. But for stopping to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before he left, Brennan frowned when she realized that yet another opportunity for them to talk had been lost—and as she had gotten ready for work herself, the plan to go see Bryar had eventually solidified in her head.

Now, that Brennan had asked Booth point blank about things, she was curious to see if he would give her some type of honest answer or equivocate once more.

Staring at her for a second, it took Booth a few seconds before he said quietly, "I'm sorry that I had to leave like that last night."

"It's okay," Brennan said. "You had to go and do what you needed to do."

"Still," Booth said, a hand coming to where a curl rested on her shoulder, he began to wrap his fingers around it gently as he continued. "The timing was rotten."

"Yes," Brennan couldn't help agree with a nod. She shivered a bit as she felt Booth play with her hair. It was one of her most intimate secrets—how much she loved it when he played with her hair and how quickly it could make her go weak in the metaphorical knees—and one that she hadn't even really shared with Booth herself, but one that he'd figured out all on his own in the months since they'd been in a physical relationship. "The timing of that phone call was quite inconvenient."

Reaching for her glass, Booth took both of them and set them on the coffee table. He did the same with her laptop and then reached in to draw her to him again. Brennan let Booth pull her towards him, but playfully moved her head to the side when he leaned in for a kiss.

"You're trying to distract me," she murmured softly

"Now, why would you say something like that, Bones?" Booth grinned at her before he moved in and tried to kiss her again. Once again, Brennan gently moved to deflect his lips so that he kissed her cheek instead of her lips.

"The hair was a dead giveaway, Booth," Brennan chuckled. "I know you're trying to avoid something, and you're pulling out the metaphorical big guns to distract me by playing with my hair in a move to initiate foreplay that will culminate in us having sex."

Pulling away from her slightly, Booth gave her a toothy grin as he said, "Busted, ehh?"

"Mmmmm hmmmm," Brennan told him.

"So, is this your way of telling me that you don't want to have sex right now?" Booth asked, his throat already growing a bit thick with desire.

Shaking her head, Brennan said, "Not necessarily. I just…I think it's important for you to tell me what's been bothering you first, okay?"

At her words, Booth pulled back slightly. "What makes you think something's bothering me, Bones?"

"Booth," Brennan said with a frown. "Something's bothering you. I may not be a genius when it comes to reading other people, but I like to think I've gotten quite good at reading you, and I know that something's wrong." She paused, her voice growing a bit more hesitant and uncertain as she said, "I suspect that your increased stress levels over the past few days are from the combined issues of a number of different problems, but given how you were last night upon your return from your errand, and again how you were this morning, I'm forced to wonder if the issue I broached last night had a delayed response for you that's been manifested negatively—"

"Wait," Booth said, shaking his head. "Wait, wait, wait, Bones. You think I'm stressed because of…well, what exactly?"

"Because," Brennan looked away as she softly said, "because of my suggestion that we.. consider procreating."

Booth processed her words and it took a minute or two for him to make sense of them. At last, he reached over and grabbed her hand as he said, "Bones?"

"Yes, Booth?" Brennan asked, her voice still soft and vulnerable, and although she let him hold her hands, she still hadn't met his eyes.

"This…all this crap that's going on with me right now…it…it doesn't really have anything to do with our conversation last night," Booth told her, trying to be as reassuring as possible.

Slowly, Brennan turned her head to meet his gaze with hope evident in her eyes. "Really?"

Nodding, Booth smiled as he reached up and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, yeah. As a matter a fact, you're about the only thing in my life right now that isn't completely screwed up."

"Then, you haven't had any second thoughts about my proposition?" Brennan said, a bit of confidence growing in her voice.

As soon as she'd said the words, Booth paled a bit. Brennan immediately felt some of the blood drain out of her face as she saw her husband's reaction to her last statement.

"What is it?" Brennan could barely manage to ask.

Swallowing once, Booth said a silent prayer as he tried to figure out the best way to proceed without completely wrecking things between them. "Okay, before I say anything else, I want you to promise to hear everything I have to say before you do what it is that I know is going to be your natural instinct to do and run, okay, Bones?"

"It's…it's that bad?" Brennan inquired softly, her voice merely above a whisper.

"I don't—just listen to me, okay, Bones?" Booth asked.

"Okay," she nodded.

"I…you know I love you?"

Brennan nodded, and she felt a knot of fear and pain tighten in her belly.

"With all that I am, with all that I'll ever be, I love you more than my life, right?" Booth explained.

As he continued to speak, the knot that Brennan felt growing in her stomach tightened with each word. _Oh, God_—_what is it? What's he trying to tell me?_

"And, I'll always love you, Bones, and because of that, and because I know you love me, I know we can do whatever we need to do and get to wherever we need to go, right?" he asked her.

Brennan nodded, her terror starting to manifest as a growing wave of nausea washed over her.

"So, of course I want to have a baby with you…if that's what you want, but…the timing is going to have to wait a little bit, okay? Right now—right now, you and me having a baby just isn't a good idea," Booth said gently.

Her body still rigid, Brennan could barely managed to ask, "Why? What's changed in the past twenty-four hours that's resulted in you altering your opinion, Booth? You seemed very enthusiastic about it last night."

"I was. God, you have no idea how much. I want to have a baby with you, Bones, more than anything in the world, but right now—" Running his free hand through his hair, Booth sighed as he said, "The call I got last night?"

"Yes," Brennan prompted. "What about it?"

"It was from Hannah, Bones," Booth began to speak, and as soon as he did so, like he was making a confession to his priest, the words started to flow freely. "She's…she called me from the hospital, and said she needed to see me right away because it was a matter of life and death, and when I got there—I found out that she's…she's pregnant, Bones. She's pregnant."

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p>

* * *

><p>AN: I know those lynch mobs are still rumbling. For Booth's sake, just a bit more patience, huh? After all, we'd hate to roast him if he wasn't actually guilty, right? So, hang in there!


	6. Ch 5: Confrontation on the OB Floor

Revisiting a Big Mistake

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: Mixing sex and alcohol can have disastrous consequences, especially when a face from the past returns with a secret that threatens Booth and Brennan's new relationship and recent marriage. Set post-"Blackout in the Blizzard." Very AU.

* * *

><p>Chapter 5 – Confrontation on the O.B. Floor<p>

* * *

><p><em>"It was from Hannah, Bones. She called me from the hospital, and said she needed to see me right away because it was a matter of life and death, and when I got there—I found out that she's…she's pregnant, Bones. She's pregnant."<em>

After hearing one's husband utter such words—in effect, telling his wife that his ex-girlfriend was now gestating within a time period that made it chronologically possible for said husband to have sired the fetus said ex was carrying—one might expect said wife, at the very least, to have had a sleepless night. But, if there was one thing that Dr. Temperance Brennan was consistently doing, it was surprising both herself and others with her responses. Instead of doing what Booth had feared, i.e., get scared, panicking, and running for the nearest third-world archaeological dig sponsored in the most remote place available outside of the western hemisphere, Brennan had been quite wonderful. She'd listened carefully to Booth recount the brief conversation he'd had with Hannah. And, when he was done, and he'd asked what she wanted him to do, she'd politely requested that he to go into the kitchen and retrieve the bottle of Crown Royal from the counter where she'd left it. Once he returned to the couch with the requested bottle in hand, Brennan barely stopped to refill his glass after she'd popped the top and took a deep swig directly from the bottle.

And, so, in actuality, Brennan hadn't had a sleepless night. No, she'd slept in a hazy dreamless fog after she and Booth had gotten obscenely drunk on the blended whiskey. In the morning, when the tell-tale signs of the hangover began to prick at the edges of her barely conscious mind, Brennan realized that they'd never even made it to the bed the previous night. Her back was stiff, but she was certain that Booth's would be worse since she'd ended up on top of him, curled on his chest as they slept off the stupor. Then, of course, in addition to her hangover, there was just that other teeny tiny matter of the extreme muscle strain Brennan had also felt in the morning. No, the muscle strain wasn't from falling asleep dead drunk on her couch. Instead, that issue had come as a result of the other act that had followed Brennan and Booth guzzling the Canadian Whiskey in wordless silence, and before the two of them had passed out on the couch—apparently a fairly rough round of quite physically active sex had ensued. And, so, it was on the next morning that Brennan woke up with a bitch of a headache due to dehydration, severe muscle strain in her thighs, extreme sensitivity to light and sound, but fairly well rested.

Booth was still passed out when Brennan awoke, and she took it as a sign that she should take some time to think about what he'd told her. An hour later, after she'd showered, made coffee, had toast, and had gotten dressed, Booth still hadn't moved an inch on the couch. After checking him once more to make certain that he was still breathing, and just sleeping off their impromptu bender, Brennan left him a note and then headed out the door. As she'd dressed and eaten her breakfast, really waiting for the pain medicine and muscle relaxers to kick in more then anything else, Brennan finally knew what she had to do. She wasn't certain if Booth would like it or not, but since she'd respected him enough to do what he'd needed to do the night before, she hoped he would at least reciprocate for her once she told him of what she'd done.

And, it was with that thought in mind that Brennan found herself on the obstetrics floor of Georgetown Memorial Hospital. It was the second time in a week she'd found herself at this particular hospital, the first visit coming almost a week to the day when she and Booth had found out about Jared's drunk driving accident. However, thoughts of Jared had quickly pushed out of Brennan's mind when she reached the door in question, gave two sharp raps on the doorframe, and waited for a familiar voice to call out permission for her to enter.

When Brennan entered the room, still wearing her sunglasses due to the lingering effects of her hangover, she reluctantly pushed them up off of her eyes and onto her forehead as she looked at the blonde woman sitting propped up in the bed in front of her.

"Hello, Temperance," came the simple response.

"Hannah," she said quietly.

Pursing her lips, the reporter nodded and said, "I suppose I should say that I'm surprised to see you here, but given what Seeley told me's happened between you two since the last time I saw you guys in the spring, I knew you'd be here at some point."

"Yes," Brennan agreed. "You can't really fault me for coming to deal with you directly since Booth is more than just my partner now."

"How very aggressive of you, Temperance," Hannah said, a touch of appreciation coming into her voice. "I never would've thought you'd be so…territorial."

"He's my husband, Hannah," Brennan said curtly. "That puts me in a very different position than the last time you were in a hospital bed, and I came to see you." Brennan stopped at those words, her fingers coming to caress her sunglasses as she looked at the journalist and said, "And, seeing as how this isn't a social call, and I can't honestly say I have any desire to placate any gods, should they exist, for your health and well-being, I'm sure you'll understand that no, I didn't bring you a gift, and no, you may not have my sunglasses."

Hannah chuckled at Brennan's words. She nodded and then said, "So much for me asking, huh?"

"I indulged your materialism the last time you made such an asinine request purely for Booth's sake, Hannah," Brennan said. "Seeing as how that is no longer a consideration, I fail to see why it's necessary to make such efforts when we'd both know they'd obviously be disingenuous on my part."

"Touche," Hannah said with a nod. "So, now that we've gotten over the pleasantries, why don't you ask me the question you're really here to ask me."

Brennan leveled her gaze at Hannah for a minute and then nodded. "All right. But, I think it only fair to warn you, the question I have to ask you isn't the one you think that's brought me here."

"Oh?" Hannah asked, arching an eyebrow in curiosity. "And, what question do you think I think you want to ask me?"

"I think," Brennan began. "I think you expect me to make inquiries regarding two issues. First, I believe you expect me to ask you if Booth is really the father of the fetus you're carrying, as you told him last night. Second, I believe you expect me to ask you why you told him almost seven months after the fact if he is the father."

Hannah again stared at Brennan for a moment and then smiled. "Very good." She nodded in appreciation. "You _have _changed, haven't you? In all the time I knew you, I never knew you to be so…intuitive."

"That's because you never really knew me, Hannah," Brennan told her simply. "Not really, not at all."

"Is that true, Temperance?" Hannah asked, a bit of hurt creeping into her voice. "I know that you've always said that you always befriended me because of Seeley, but I'd like to think that we got past that and became true friends because of us ourselves—"

"No," Brennan said, with a shake of her head. "No, I—well, suffice to say Hannah, I'm a sado masochist only up to a point. I befriended you because of Booth, and only maintained the friendship because of him. When you rejected his proposal and broke his heart, that absolved me of any connection to you. There was no longer any purpose to maintain our acquaintanceship, and for that I was very, _very _glad. More importantly, I'd think such information was quite clear to you when I made no effort to contact you or maintain any type of communication after you broke up with Booth."

"After Seeley broke up with me," Hannah corrected her. "_He_ broke up with _me_, Temperance. It wasn't the other way around, and we both know that."

"Because you rejected his marriage proposal," Brennan countered.

Hannah shrugged her shoulders as she said, "I didn't want to end our relationship. I was happy with how things were. Seeley wasn't. When I said no, he kicked me to the curb faster than you can say 'please drive forward.' But, then again, you already know that since it appears as if you took quick advantage of my departure. Tell me, how long after our bed was cold did you take advantage of Seeley and seduce him? Was it the same night as the last time we talked? The night he broke up with me because I said I didn't want to marry him, and I called you? Was it?"

At her insinuation, Brennan felt a flush of anger flare in her mind. "Booth cared about you," she told Hannah. "He put everything he had, everything he was into making your relationship work. You have no cause to castigate him or disparage his person for lack of effort, Hannah. Booth's an honorable man—"

"Who gave me an ultimatum, and he ended a six-month relationship after barely two minutes of discussion," Hannah said. She stopped, paused, and then her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she said, "And, don't think for a minute, by the way, that I didn't notice that you avoided answering my question there, Temperance."

Crossing her arms in a clearly defensive pose, Brennan said, "For your information, not that it's any of your business, but Booth and I didn't engage in sexual intercourse until approximately six weeks after your relationship with him ended."

"Six weeks, huh?' Hannah said. "And, why do I doubt that for some reason?"

"Believe it or not, as you wish, Hannah," Brennan said. "It's the truth. I have no reason to lie about it—unlike some people."

Hannah licked her bottom lip, temporarily ignoring Brennan's veiled insult as she said, "So, you and Seeley didn't get busy until what… St. Patrick's Day? It took that long?"

Brennan felt herself flush as her mind unconsciously went back to the night in question.

The first time they'd had sex had been almost accidental… a true 'what the fuck' moment when they shut off their minds, let the alcohol in their system push aside his fear and her anger, and merely acted on instinct. When they woke up the next morning at his place, however, and Booth had pulled her toward him in what became a very gratifying round of morning sex, well—one time could be chalked up to the alcohol, but not the second.

At last, looking at her, Brennan tilted her head at Hannah as she narrowed her eyes. "What you did to him—it hurt him very badly. It left him very…angry, Hannah."

"Yeah, well," Hannah shrugged. "What he did to me wasn't much better."

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Brennan asked, "And, with that statement are you insinuating that you were emotionally distraught when your relationship with Booth ended, or are you trying to make reference to your claim that he's the male who impregnated you?"

Hannah didn't look away from Brennan. She held her gaze fearlessly as she said, "I moved half way across the world to be with Seeley, Temperance. I left my job and moved to D.C. because of _him_. I gave up a lot of what and who I was to be with _him_. I lived with _him_ for four months. I shared _his _home and _his _bed. I was _his _girlfriend. That doesn't just go away overnight. It meant something."

"Oh, I agree," Brennan said, with a nod. "I agree 100% percent."

Hannah stopped for a second and then a small smile cracked the edge of her lips. "Wow, I didn't expect that."

"Expect what?"

"You to concede any points to me whatsoever," Hannah said. "I expected this to be just one giant defensively aggressive conversation where you came to piss on your territory."

Frowning at her words, Brennan shook her head. "That statement implies that you realize that Booth _is _my property so marking him with my pheromones with the goal of warning off would be poachers is unnecessary, I think."

"And, yet, you're still here," Hannah said. "Why else would you be here less than sixteen hours after I talked to Seeley if it isn't here to give me some type of message?"

"Oh, now, I never said I didn't have a message for you," Brennan shook her head. "I just merely corrected your assumption that I was here to intimidate you into keeping your distance from my husband."

At Brennan's words, Hannah winced a bit.

Brennan couldn't help herself as a she felt a shallow, but very gratifying since of vindication at Hannah's reaction. _I may never be able to say it, but you have no idea how much this makes up for when I had to hear Booth tell me that you weren't a consolation prize. That was one of the worst nights of my entire life, and although I don't ascribe to an religious belief system, the Hindu conception of karma is quite appealing in its one-to-one statement on action_ _in this particular sitution_, Brennan thought to herself as she wondered if this conversation might be the universe balancing itself for her very unhappy conversation in Booth's SUV after the Lauren Eames case.

"You know," Hannah began after a couple of minutes of silence had settled between the pair. "I've to admit that when Seeley told me he was married, I was surprised. Not shocked, mind you, but surprised. I knew he wanted to get married, and when I turned him down, I suspected that it would only be a matter of time before he got hitched. I thought it might take a little longer than it turned out to be, but that's probably just my ego more than anything else."

"Well, I think I do feel quite comfortable in saying that, at times, I've noticed you to be quite the egotistical individual," Brennan observed dryly.

Blinking a couple of times, Hannah merely shrugged as she said, "Coming from the pot, this kettle will take that as a complement."

"Although it's not important that I don't know what that euphemism is trying to convey specifically, I get the general point you're trying to make," Brennan replied.

"See?" Hannah laughed sardonically. "That's just such a _you _thing to say, Temperance. It really is—and is probably the reason why I went from surprised when Seeley told me he'd gotten married to damn near shocked when he said that the woman he married was _you_."

"Then, you never really knew Booth as well as you thought you did," Brennan said simply. "I can assure you, we're both very well matched."

Hannah waved her hand absentmindedly. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. I hope you'll spare me the details about you and Seeley playing house in wedded bliss."

"Why should I?" Brennan responded. "It's not like you've actually had to witness or participate in any of _our _domesticity…unlike when I had to watch you shack up with Booth merely because I made an error in judgment when he asked me to give our relationship a shot two years ago—before he even met you, for the record—and I foolishly turned down his offer."

"If I didn't know better," Hannah told her. "I'd said that you sounded a little bitter there, Temperance."

"Maybe," Brennan said with a shrug. She then lifted her hand up slightly, glanced at the ring in what was becoming somewhat of an unintended habit, and smiled as she said, "But, in the end, any bitterness I felt was greatly salved by the balm of our marriage vows."

As Hannah saw the ring on Brennan's finger, she scowled a bit in displeasure. She then made another face as she said, "Of course, that's a much smaller diamond that the one with which Seeley proposed to me when I rejected his proposal."

"Smaller, yes," Brennan admitted. "But, the cut and clarity is of a much, _much _higher grade, and the setting is platinum, not yellow gold." She stopped and then gave Hannah a sly look of her own as she said, "Besides, I find it reflects my personality and my relationship with Booth quite well—it's classy, understated, and not as loud or boorishly garish as it might've been."

Biting the inside of her lip to keep from biting out a retort, Hannah's efforts were given away when the cardiac monitoring machine began to beep as her heart rate increased. She flushed as Brennan glanced at it, and she allowed her frown of displeasure to manifest itself when she knew the point was now mute.

"I hate being hooked up to this fucking monitor," Hannah said. "I fucking hate it."

"Which one?" Brennan asked with a nod. "The standard hospital machine that measures the vitals or the other one…what is that? Some type of machine that monitors your fetus?"

"Fetal heart monitor," Hannah replied dully. "As long as I'm here, they're using it to make sure the baby doesn't go into distress. I almost went into preterm labor earlier this week—no, technically, I guess you would have to say I was in preterm labor since I was dilated a centimeter and a half before they stopped the contractions with drugs—and that's why I'm stuck here now on strict bedrest for God knows how long."

"I see," Brennan said. "And, the onset of labor earlier this week is what prompted you to contact Booth almost seven months after the last time either one of us had either seen or heard from you?"

Hannah frowned again as she said, "I thought he'd want to know what was going on—I thought it was his right to know."

"And, it only took you how many months to come up with that one?" Brennan countered.

"You know," Hannah said. "In a couple months, if everything goes like it should, since you're married to the father of my child, we're going to have to come to some type of arrangement and act amicably for the baby's sake."

"I wouldn't go quite that far just yet, Hannah," Brennan said, pursing her lips slightly.

With a slight sigh, Hannah said, "What? Don't tell me you're going to make this harder for Seeley than it has to be."

"No," Brennan said. "If, indeed, the fetus you're carrying turns out to be Booth's progeny, of course, regardless of who its mother is, because it's a part of Booth, I will love it as much as I love Parker."

"Well, that's good to know, I suppose," Hannah said.

"But," Brennan said. "And, this brings us back to your earlier point about why I'm actually here, I would prefer that you not refer to Booth as your fetus's sire until it's scientifically proven."

"What are you talking about?" Hannah asked. "I thought Seeley told you—"

"Oh, Booth told me all right. He told me that you presented a copy of a maternal fetal blood test that merely confirmed that the fetus you're carrying has the same blood type as Booth. While it's true that only 2% of the population has a B- blood type, that translates to roughly 6.4 million people in the United States alone that have the same blood type. If you divide those in half to account for the fact that only half of the population is female, that still means there could be a potential pool of progenitors of your fetus that numbers at lease 3.2 million—to say nothing if we widen the sample size beyond the borderes of the United States. So, until the DNA typing comes back with an affirmative match, don't call Booth your fetus's father."

"He gave a sample last night," Hannah said. "It takes ten to fourteen days for the results to come back, but you know what it'll say."

"Maybe it will say Booth is the genetic progenitor of your offspring and maybe he isn't," Brennan said. "In either case, since an amniocentesis can't be done given the high-risk nature of your pregnancy, and we must rely on the maternal fetal blood testing, I hope you won't think too harshly off us when I tell you that I've arranged for our own independent DNA test to be conducted. The tech will be here later this morning to collect a sample of your blood, and I can assure you that the institution I have running the test won't take two weeks to determine the results of your child's paternity."

At Brennan's words, Hannah paled a bit. "You can't do that."

"I already have," Brennan said. "I made the arrangements before I even walked through that door."

"Why do we need to have a second test done?" Hannah quickly asked. "I already told Seeley—"

"I hope you understand that the claim you've made could have significant ramifications for not just Booth, but me, as well as our entire family," Brennan said. "It would be remiss of me if I didn't take precautions to safeguard our family from any untoward threats—"

"Wait," Hannah said. "You think I'm a threat to Seeley?"

"I think that you've experienced a tremendous amount of turmoil in the past week," Brennan said. "I wouldn't be logical if I didn't take those considerations into account when assessing the timing of your confession to Booth."

"I'm not lying," Hannah said, her fists clenching as she glanced in annoyance as the heart rate monitor showed another increase in her pulse. "I'm not."

"Then, there's no reason for you to feel upset or uncertain about my arrangements," Brennan told her. "The results of the test I've scheduled—and paid for myself, by the way, so you don't have to worry about the cost, if money's your concern—should be available in forty-eight to seventy-two hours. If you're not being dishonest, my test will have the same exact results as the one that Booth gave a DNA sample for last night."

"Does he know you were going to do this?" Hannah asked, sitting up in bed, trying to straighten her posture as much as possible. "Did Seeley agree with this?"

Brennan's eyebrows narrowed as she thought back to how she'd left Booth passed out on their couch. _I don't see why this should be a big deal, and I'll tell him as soon as I get home_, Brennan thought to herself. _Even if he doesn't know about it yet, he will shortly, and I know he'll support me in this_— "Why would you even ask a question like that?" Brennan responded at last, with a feigned, but indulgent sigh. "I thought you were aware that spouses always discuss matters of import, particularly in cases such as this one that might potentially have such long-term significance for our family," Brennan replied.

"I just can't believe that Seeley wouldn't trust me enough that he'd insist on a second test," Hannah said.

Shrugging, Brennan said, "Considering the fact that there's no risk to your or the child, and if Booth is the father as you claim, what's the issue, Hannah?"

At her words, Hannah gave Brennan a hard look and then forced herself to relax as she said, "Nothing, nothing at all, Temperance." She stopped and then said, "In a way, I'm glad you insisted on a second test. I hope it means that you'll be this fastidious when you're spending time with Seeley and my's child—"

"Of that you can be certain," Brennan said. She stopped and then added, "Since you brought it up, I feel this is also a good opportunity to mention the fact that if the child you're carrying was indeed fathered by Booth, I hope you know that both of us will expect a legally binding custody arrangement to be determined as soon as it's feasible after the child is born."

Again, Hannah shot Brennan another look, and once again, it's significance wasn't lost on Brennan.

"I would never keep Seeley from our child," Hannah said simply.

"Maybe, maybe not," Brennan said with a shrug. "However, unlike when he found himself in this very situation with Rebecca and Parker, a repeat of his son's early years will _not _be happening with this child if it is Booth's. I'm informing you now—Booth will have predetermined legally defined parental rights. You will not use this child as a way to manipulate him, control him, or attempt to use the child to facilitate some type of personal reconciliation between the two of you as Rebecca did. Beyond the fact that you might be co-parents, your intimate relationship with Booth is over and won't be rekindled. Is that understood?"

As Brennan spoke, particularly her last words, Hannah chuckled merrily. Her eyes bright as she looked up, Hannah asked, "Why, Temperance, if I didn't know better, I'd say you might sound a bit—threatened?"

"Of course not," Brennan said a bit too quickly. "As I said, until the independent DNA test confirms your claim, there's no need to me to feel threatened by you in the least. And, by some random chance, if the child you're carrying is Booth's, then, well, I still don't need to feel threatened by you because _I'm _his wife."

"And, I'm the mother of his child," Hannah said, a bit too smugly as far as Brennan was concerned.

"Allegedly," Brennan muttered.

"Still, wives can come and go. Seeley and I sharing our DNA in a child, well—that'll bond us forever," Hannah said.

At her jib, Brennan felt the need to retaliate with one of her own. "And why do you assume that Booth and I won't have any children of our own, Hannah?"

"I think with Parker and our baby, that's a lot to handle at one time," Hannah said. "So, no, I don't think you and Seeley would necessarily be expanding your little makeshift brood in the near future—unless, you have something else you want to tell me?" Hannah's eyes darted to Brennan's very flat abdomen. She then said, "No, I didn't think so. But, if you _are_ thinking about starting a family with Seeley, take a word from the wise—of course, you might not want to wait _too _long, after all. Isn't it a biological fact that fertility _significantly_ decreases after a woman turns thirty?"

Brennan bit her lip and then said, "We'll be in touch once the results come back, Hannah."

"Oh, I have no doubt we'll be talking again soon, Temperance—very soon," Hannah said as she watched Brennan turned sharply on her heels and walk out the door without another word.

* * *

><p>By the time Brennan returned to her apartment, having made several calls to the lab and Booth's field detail en route, a little less than three hours had passed from her initial moment of departure. And, with each minute that had passed since she left George Washington Memorial, Brennan had felt her anger and hostility growing. Perhaps in a delayed reaction to the news of Hannah's impending motherhood, and maybe because the blonde reporter had hit a few proverbial nerves with her comments, Brennan was in quite a mood by the time she returned to the apartment.<p>

When she walked in, she shut the door louder than she'd intended to do so. She didn't slam the door, per se, but it was enough to rattle a couple of her wall frames. As she set down her keys and purse on the dining room table, she realized the pain medication was wearing off, and her hangover was returning with a vengeance. As she contemplated going to the medicine cabinet to retrieve another round of Advil, a head popped up from her couch followed by a loan groan.

Booth's moan had melted a bit of her anger as she walked around to the couch and saw he hadn't really moved from when she'd covered him with an afghan and left on her morning errands.

Cracking a blurry eye at her, Booth moaned again before he said, "Hey."

"Morning," she said, coming over to sit on the edge of the couch. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," Booth told her honestly. His eyes narrowed and then said, "Wait, don't tell me you're not—"

"Oh, I was," Brennan nodded. "And, still am, actually. I just have a head start on you."

"How long have you been up, or—how long have I been out?" Booth asked, eyeing her appearance and seeing that she was dressed formally enough that she'd obviously already been out and about.

"A few hours, and a while," Brennan said with a nod. "You hungry?"

"No," Booth said. "Not particularly. Thirsty, though."

"I'll get you some water. It'll help with the dehydration. Some analgesics would probably be a good thing, too," Brennan said as she stood up.

Booth, however, had other plans as he grabbed her hand. Even in his hungover state, Booth knew something was wrong. "Bones?"

"Yes, Booth?" she asked, looking away.

"We okay?" he asked quietly.

Slowly, she looked back at him. As Booth sat up and had shifted off the couch to reach for her arm, the afghan covering his naked body had fallen away to reveal his broad shoulders, muscular chest, and the light fuzz of hair that ran down his torso but grew thicker as it crested down to his navel, and she lost sight of things as the blanket pooled in his lap. Wetting her lips, she nodded and said, "I love you."

"I know," Booth said. "And, I'm so sorry, Bones."

"There's no need to apologize," Brennan said simply. "We don't even know if she's telling the truth yet, Booth."

"Why would she lie?" Booth countered.

"Because she wants you back," the words immediately tumbled out of Brennan's lips before she realized she'd said them.

A second, albeit still knowing look came into Booth's eyes as he said, "Well, that ship sailed a long, long time ago, Bones."

"I know that, you know that, but she might not," Brennan said, her voice a bit more vulnerable than she'd expected.

Still not dropping her hand, Booth tugged her towards him. "Forget the water for a minute, huh?"

With a small nod, Brennan let him pull her down into his lap. Wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace, Booth whispered, "You know, I don't think I ever told you the story, but once when Cam first came back—and this was before we'd even started messing around again—she asked me if she made me choose between you and her, who would win."

"And?" Brennan asked as she tilted her head to rest it on his shoulder.

"And, I told her the same thing I'm gonna tell you right now, Bones, because it's still true—I'm with you, all the way," Booth said simply.

Feeling a bit reassured by his words, Brennan tilted her head as she said, "Out of curiosity, how bad is your back?"

Shrugging his shoulders as if to test her question, Booth said, "I don't really know since I haven't really tried to move yet. If it's wrecked like it usually is after a night on the couch, I won't know until I stand up. Why?"

"Because," Brennan said, shifting in his lap. "I was debating the merits of suggesting that we move to the bedroom, but if that means it might cause you discomfort, perhaps the better idea would be for you to remain in your current position, and let me do the work."

His eyes darkening as he instantly recognized the tone in her voice, Booth still asked, "And, what work would that be, huh, Bones?"

As gently as she could, Brennan stood up and turned to face Booth. She leaned down and kissed him, before she pulled away from his ear just enough to whisper, "I know it's irrational, but I very much feel the need for you to be inside me right now, Booth."

Thoughts of his hangover quickly fading, as Brennan straightened her pose and looked down at him, he rested his hands lightly on her hips. He began to let his fingers untuck her blouse from her black dress trousers. Pulling the shirt free, his hands moved to the top button, and quickly freed it, allowing him access to the elastic waistband of her white cotton panties. "I'm going to be so late today," Booth said, his voice rough with desire.

"I already called your field detail," Brennan said, her voice also husky at his brief ministrations. "I told them you were sick."

"If I take a whole sick day today, then I won't—"

"I don't care," Brennan said as she reached up and began to unbutton her top one button at a time. Booth ceased in his efforts and enjoyed the sight of watching her undress. "I don't care," she repeated when she dropped the blouse on the floor and lovingly removed his hands from her hips. In a few seconds, she had quickly divested herself of her heels, trousers, and panties, and yanked the afghan out of Booth's lap. He seemed content to let her set the pace as she sank down into his lap. Still wearing her bra, she wrapped her hands around his neck and leaned in to kiss him. "I know it's irrational," she repeated. "But, I need—I need to feel that you're mine, Booth—that you're really, _really _mine."

As he shifted slightly to help Brennan get a better grip on her position, he leaned up and breathed into her ear with so much true and heartfelt emotion that it made Brennan's metaphorical heart want to burst from swelling, "Only yours, Bones. Only ever yours."

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p>

* * *

><p><span>AN: So, Hannah's been confronted, she's sticking to her guns, and Brennan doesn't know what to make of everything…or does she? Coming up next—another wonderful visit with Jared as he dries out and still manages to do something really stupid to make his brother's life even more miserable—want to know what happens next? Then, click that little button below and do your thing. :)~


	7. Ch 6: Two Brothers' Bitter Words

Revisiting a Big Mistake

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Mixing sex and alcohol can have disastrous consequences, especially when a face from the past returns with a secret that threatens Booth and Brennan's new relationship and recent marriage. Set post-"Blackout in the Blizzard." Very AU.

* * *

><p>Chapter 6 – Two Brothers' Bitter Words<p>

* * *

><p>The next time that Booth and Brennan found themselves back at a hospital that the two of them were thoroughly getting sick of visiting, it was not, as either had anticipated, because of Hannah and her would-be stunning revelation. No, instead, for the second time in as many weeks, Brennan was standing besides Booth in the same hospital, as she saw him unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists, because of someone else—in this case, Jared Booth.<p>

Coming up behind him, Brennan wrapped her hands around his waist as she murmured in his ears, "It's okay."

"I shouldn't have come," Booth said shaking his head slightly. "When the phone rang, I should've let it go straight to voicemail. I never should've answered it."

"But, you did," Brennan said softly in his ear. "You did because that's what you do—it's what you've always done, and I love you all the more because of it."

"No," Booth shook his head. "I'm tired of being the responsible one with him, Bones. I always do the right thing, I always do what's expected of me, and I'm so sick of it, I can't even tell you. I've never said no to him—not really."

"Do you want to talk to him?" Brennan whispered in her husband's ear.

Shaking his head, Booth replied, "No, not really."

"Fine," Brennan said, as she stared at Jared Booth through the observation window that was placed in the middle of his sick room's door. "Then, I'll do it."

Booth pulled away from her enough to turn around and face her. Tilting his head at her he asked, "You would do that?"

"Of course," she nodded. "For you? I'd do anything you need me to do, Booth. Anything, anytime, anywhere."

Reaching out, he pulled her into another hug. As he brushed his lips across her forehead, he whispered, "God, I love you."

Pulling away, she gave him one last reassuring squeeze. "Someone has to tell him what's happening, and since we're here already, it would be foolish to squander the effort. So, I'll go in and tell him that we're done until he goes into rehab for his alcohol addition. That's the plan, and I'll take care of it."

Nodding at her, a look of devoted appreciation clearly shining in his warm brown eyes, Booth said quietly, "Thank you."

Brennan returned his nod and then turned to open the door to Jared's room, leaving Booth watching her as she left.

* * *

><p>A few minutes after Booth had watched Brennan enter his brother's sick room, he felt his phone buzz in his jacket pocket. Without glancing at the caller ID, Booth grabbed it, thankful for the distraction.<p>

"Booth," he responded as soon as he hit the green button on his phone to accept the call and brought it to his ear.

However, as soon as he heard the familiar voice on the other end of the phone, Booth grimaced as he wished that he hadn't picked up the call after all.

"No," he responded in a tone that was probably a bit more clipped than he should've answered the telephone caller's question. "I can't."

He waited for a beat he shook his head in response to the caller's next statement, even though his physical response couldn't actually be seen.

"No," he repeated. "I just said—because I can't." He stopped and exhaled in exasperation, running his free hand through his hair in exasperation. "If you really need to know, it's because my younger brother is in the hospital because he flipped his car into the median on the GW Parkway."

Booth paused again before he nodded his head and glanced in the window at where Brennan stood at the foot of Jared's bed. His brow furrowed as he noticed the way Brennan's body language had changed with her nostrils flaring slightly, her lips pursed into a hard, thin line, and her shoulders taut. Seeing the obvious signs of the change in his wife's physical demeanor, Booth's focus was immediately turned away from the phone in his hand.

"I'm sorry," he said into the phone, obviously cutting off the caller mid-sentence. "I've gotta go—something's come up. Goodbye."

And, Booth quickly stuffed his phone in his pocket, never realizing that in his hurry to enter Jared's hospital room that he hadn't pressed the call 'end' button as he entered just in time to see Brennan raise her hand to strike the younger Booth, fury clearly evident in her face.

* * *

><p>Standing at the end of Jared's bed, Brennan stared at him for a few seconds before she said, "Jared."<p>

Jared, who had been dozing from mere boredom, despite the fact that he wasn't really all that sleepy, slowly opened his eyes.

"Tempe!" he said, giving her a lopsided grin that had just enough in come with his brother's that it made her a bit nauseous. It was clear by the way that Jared was slurring his words that he was drunk again. "You came!"

"Yes," Brennan said with an obvious frown. "I would say that is self-apparent since I'm actually here, Jared."

Snuggling down into the warmth of the bed, Jared smiled at her again. "I've missed that about you, you know that?"

"Given the vague wording of your statement," Brennan said, working hard to convey her most severe levels of displeasure in her tone and voice, "I would have to answer, no, I'm not certain what you're talking about."

Letting most of her words glaze over him, Jared smiled at her again as he said, "You're always so direct, Tempe—so honest. A guy always knows where he stands with you."

"And, if that's true, where do you think that you stand with me right now?" Brennan said, crossing her arms as she nodded at him.

"I'd say since you're giving me the good ole evil eye there that you're probably here to rough me up a bit before Seeley comes in and finishes off the job," Jared said as he tilted his head to look at her. "But, you know what? I don't care why you're here. I'm just really happy to see you."

"Your apparent joy at my arrival makes little sense, Jared," Brennan said. "Furthermore, it's fairly irrelevant since my presence here has nothing to do with you and everything to do with your brother."

"Yeah," Jared said as he sighed. "I know that." He stopped and then looked up at her with a nod. "Why is that again, Tempe?"

"Why is what?" Brennan said, her agitation at Jared's vague statements continuing to grow with each and every second that passed.

"Why is it," Jared began, "that you always liked him better than me?" He stopped, gave her another smile, and then continued. "I mean, it's not like I didn't do everything that I was supposed to do, right? I mean, you remember that one night when we went out? I mean, of course, you probably can really call it going out since it happened kinda accidentally, but, I still did everything I was supposed to, didn't I? I bought you a drink, I listened to your bad jokes, I didn't try to make a move until—"

Taking a step towards him, her hands on her hips in a clearly defensive posture, Brennan's nostrils flared as she asked, "Why would you bring that up?"

"Because," Jared said. "Looking back, that was a great night—one of the best nights of my life. Wasn't it for you?"

"That was a long time ago, Jared," Brennan said, her eyebrows arched at him in a display of strong emotion. "A _long _time ago—a lot's happened since then…so much. And, quite thankfully, I'm not the same person I was that night…and neither are you."

"Oh, I don't know, Tempe," Jared said. "It wasn't _that_ long ago, in the grand scheme of things. I mean, yeah, a bunch of shit has happened since then, but not really." He stopped and blinked at her a few times as he said, "You know, that _was _an important night to me. It…God, I was stupid—so stupid. I never should've let you go. When you let me touch you like that, and we—"

"Jared," Brennan said, flushing a bit as she spoke, and she shook her head. "Please don't. We both know it was what it was, and it wasn't anything more than that. It was never important."

"No," he insisted. "It may not have seemed like it at the time, but it _was_ important, Tempe. It was more than just a simple little thing, and it could still be more than that if you'd just let it, Tempe. You're the only woman who I've ever met that's looked at me and made me think I could be a better man than I actually am. The time that I spent with you…I mean, yeah, I took the risk, but come on…it was a good night, wasn't it?"

"Jared—" she said again, her voice coming a bit lower. "Please—"

"Come on, Tempe—" he said as he nodded at her. "It _was _a good night. I mean, we spent the whole night together so I know it wasn't just me that felt that way." He stopped and then, raising his hand, Jared gestured to her. "Will you come here…please?"

"Jared—" Brennan sighed. "I really shouldn't—"

"Tempe," Jared replied, his voice soft and gentle as he pleaded with her. "Please?"

With a sigh, Brennan reluctantly took a few steps towards the bed, closing the distance between them. When she was at last in arm's reach, Jared extended his hand and reached for hers.

Biting her lip, for some reason she couldn't explain, Brennan didn't pull away as he lightly held her arm.

"Jared," she said in a quieter voice.

"Tempe," he said. "I was a fool to let you go that night. I should've done whatever I had to do to be the man you needed me to be. Tell me that I'm not too late…tell me that we can still see if we can make a go of things because…I care about you. You're a wonderful woman—so warm, and loyal, and loving—you're not like other women. You're not like that whore of an ex-fiancée of mine. You're not like…well, you're just not like other women that I was stupid enough to fall into bed with—you're better than that, _so _much better. And, I know I can be a better man if I were to be with someone like you. So…tell me. What are you thinking? What are you feeling? Do you—wasn't that one night we had as wonderful for you as it was for me?"

"I..I-I can't say that I didn't enjoy spending time with you," Brennan agreed tentatively. "As I said that night, watching you do what you did when you were at your best…I won't lie. It was an enjoyable evening. I had a pleasurable time because I caught a glimpse of the type of man you could be when you weren't self-destructing. And, you're right, if I hadn't have enjoyed the time I spent with you, I wouldn't have stayed out with you the entire night, but, as I've also said, Jared, things are different now. _I'm _different now—so, so very different."

"I get that," Jared said, the emotion in his eyes causing his voice to become a bit excited despite his obvious alcoholic buzz. "But, you can't tell me, honestly and truly, that you don't you ever think about it, right? That night? Don't you ever think about me?"

"No," Brennan said with a shake of her head. "Not really. It's done and in the past, and it wasn't as memorable a night for me as it apparently was for you, and for that I'm sorry. But, now…who I am now, where I am in my life—to be perfectly honest, I don't really think of you beyond the context of the fact that you keep making Booth's life a living hell and that, in turn, makes my life a living hell with these stunts you keep pulling, Jared." She stopped and then pointed at him, "And, that's got to stop, by the way. We can't have any more of that because it's killing your brother."

"Metaphorically speaking, of course," he completed the sentence for Brennan, as he tried to keep a bit of the sourness that had puckered his handsome face into a sullen expression from bleeding over too much.

Rolling her eyes at his slightly snide comment, Brennan said, "Of course."

"Tempe," Jared said, his voice suddenly rough again with emotion. "Why are you here?"

"Because," Brennan said. "I already told you. We want you to get some help, and we came here to offer to help you in getting the assistance that you need.

"Help?" Jared said, his face making a twisted look as he spat it out. "Help? What kind of help?"

"Rehabilitation," Brennan said, as she nodded at him. "Someplace we can send you as a part of a plea agreement that we'll get a lawyer to work out for you with the prosecutor."

"Seeley doesn't have that kind of money," Jared said, a suspicious look coming into his eyes.

"No," she agreed. "He doesn't...but I do."

"And, why would you agree to help me like that? Come on, Tempe. Unless you're lying, and you really do feel something for me then, we're talking about thousands and thousands of dollars that you want to use just so that I can go dry out somewhere?" Jared asked.

"It's not for you," Brennan said as she gave him a slight shake of her head. "It's not, Jared. I mean, yes, I agreed to help you to make you the offer for rehabilitation, and we'll even assist you in retaining a skilled lawyer who handles these type of matters with great expertise—"

"Why?" he questioned her, his voice sharp. "Why would you do that?"

"Because of Booth," Brennan nodded. "I told you...it's because of Booth—"

At the mention of his brother, a flash of anger lighted Jared's face as he said, "You know what? Fuck him. Fuck Seeley. I don't give a shit about him. All I care about in this very minute is you—"

"And all I care about is him!" Brennan suddenly snapped as she wrenched her hand out of Jared's clasp. "Don't you get it, Jared? It's always been about Booth for me. I've loved him for even longer than what I've even known what love is."

"How can you say that?" Jared asked. "How can _you _possibly say that to _me _after that night?"

"God, Jared!" Brennan sighed in clear frustration. "It was one night, a long, _long _time ago that I spent with you because I couldn't spend it with Booth. That's it…that's all it was."

"Don't say that," Jared said, a bitterness coming into his eyes turning his normally handsome face into an ugly sight as his square jawline hardened and his eyes narrowed in anger. "Don't you fucking say that to me. We both know that I'm the better brother. You said it yourself the very first time you met me—I'm better looking than he is. I'm younger, I'm smarter. I've got a better job. Hell, even when we were both in the service, I was more talented than Seeley. He's just a dumb grunt. I was a commissioned officer, Tempe—I had a higher rank and was more important then he'd ever be…and, don't forget—I gave it all up..._for him_...because _you _asked me to do it." He stopped, paused as he took a sharp breath through closed teeth, and shook his head slightly as he said, "A dishonorable discharge, Tempe. Remember that? Remember what I did _for him_? I gave up my career, my pension, my social standing...and all for Seeley. So, you know what? You don't get to tell me that he's better than me—because, he's not. He never was, and he never will be, and most importantly, I'm no one's goddamn consolation prize!"

Taking a step backward, Brennan immediately tried to get her emotional response under control as she said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me," Jared spat at her with a shake of his head. "Don't you dare fucking apologize to me." He stopped and then nodded at her. "You know what? Maybe this was good this happened…maybe it was—so that maybe I won't make the same goddamn mistake for a third time and get caught up in a pretty pair of blue eyes when what I really only need is to tap a piece of ass."

Brennan's eyes widened a bit at Jared's words, but she bit her lip to keep from saying something she knew she'd regret—regret, not in saying it to Jared because he was Jared, but because he was Booth's brother…and, thus, her brother-in-law.

However, Brennan's silence only served to infuriate Jared even more as he said, "You know what? Why are you even here? Why did they even call you?"

"Because you skipped bail, got drunk, and got behind the wheel of another goddamn car," Brennan said. "And, because Booth has a notorious weakness for lost causes, when they called him and told him that you'd been hurt, he couldn't help himself by not coming because he loves you, you stupid, stupid asshole!"

"_You're_ calling _me_ an asshole, Tempe?" Jared said, a cynical laugh escaping his lips in a sharp bark. "That's rich, coming from the Queen of Lost Causes herself, over there. I mean, how many years do you think my brother is actually going to hang around and let you lead him by the nose since you've obviously cut both of his balls off and have 'em sitting on your mantle next to some Egyptian vase, right? I mean, you're right…Seeley is a masochist. And, for a while, you know what…I thought, maybe, just maybe—last year? With Hannah? I thought maybe he'd finally wised up and grown a set and kicked you to the goddamn curb once and for all. I was so happy when he told me about her, by the way. I thought…you know what…'good for you, Seeley.' Because my brother deserves to be with a woman who's capable of giving him everything he wants—marriage, children, a home…love...basically, all the things that a frigid bitch like you will never be capable of giving him. And, he could've had that with Hannah—because she was great for him, so _great _for him, you know? Yeah, if he hadn't fallen into bad habits again, he'd probably already have that...what he's wanted his entire life. But, because of you, he doesn't. He probably never will. You do know that's all Seeley's ever wanted in life, right? A wife, a home, a family? And, you know that since you can't give it to him because you're damaged goods, and you won't let him go, either, because you've become a rather selfish bitch in your own right—well, he's screwed, I guess...and not in the good way, right? Because, you know what they say about people who have addictive personalities, right, Tempe? They never actually cure themselves. They battle with the demon for the rest of their lives, every damn day—" He stopped, and then a thoughtful look came over his face as he took a breath and nodded at her. "You know, Tempe…you do know why my brother hasn't gambled since he met you? You do know why, don't you?"

"No," Brennan finally managed to spit out through her clenched teeth. "I don't."

"Well, then let it not be said I'm never nice to you because I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. The reason Seeley doesn't gamble anymore is because of you…and I don't mean that in a good way. You've become the addiction of choice for him in that fatalistic fucked up unhealthy thing that you've been using your partnership to hide behind for years. You want to know why Seeley doesn't gamble anymore? Well, it's because he doesn't have to since he gets his fix every time he spends time with you."

Clasping his hands behind his head as he watched Brennan pale at his words and enjoying it as he watched the color drain out of her face, Jared smiled as he nodded and continued, "So, you want to talk about people that have been killing my brother for years, baby? Well, go ahead and take a look in the goddamn mirror, Tempe. Because, the amount of time my brother's wasted in pain because of how he feels about you because he's a fucking moron, and you won't do the right thing and let him go like any decent human being would…" Jared stopped, let his voice trail off for a few seconds before he tilted his head back at Brennan and said, "Well, like I said, Seeley's got an addictive personality because he's just like me and just like our father. You've just become his drug of choice when he needs a high instead of gambling…."

"Shut up!" Brennan yelled, her voice loud and rough with fury as she hit her clenched hands against her hips in a way to try to blow off some of the rage…and fear, she felt at Jared's words. "Shut your goddamn mouth, Jared."

"What?" Jared said, as he gave her a wide-eyed innocent 'who-me?' look. "Is the ugly truth a bit too much to bear, Tempe or what?" He stopped and quirked his head at her as he said, "Of course, you don't like hearing things like the truth, huh? It sorta goes against that whole ego thing that you've got going on in your head, don't you? Well, I'm not really sorry to be the bearer of the truth, Tempe, but seeing as how you're a whore like all the rest of them, I have no qualms in saying—"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Brennan would later recall how it felt as if her rational mind had taken a leave of absence and some part of her psyche—her id, if she paid any attention to Freud, and before this particular instant, she wouldn't have given Sigmund much credence, but now—took over and drove her asks. In slow motion, she closed the distance between where she stood and Jared's hospital bed. Raising her hand, she then proceeded to slap him as hard as she could. In retrospect, if Brennan had to guess how long the entire process had taken, she would've guessed somewhere in the neighborhood of a bare minimum of thirty seconds. However, in reality, the entire process took only three or four seconds in total. The _crack _of the slap reverberated in the hospital room as Brennan's face flushed red in anger and her nostrils continued to flare in response to her strong emotional response.

For his part, Jared somehow managed to retain a grin as he slowly let his hands fall away from where they'd been interlaced behind his head and slowly reached out to caress the cheek she'd so viciously slapped. Although Jared couldn't see it, the white outline of Brennan's hand print was visible on his cheek. Brennan's furious gaze met his, and she refused to back down as she nodded at him in clear warning.

"Shut your fucking mouth," she hissed. "Shut it now before—"

"Before what?" Jared asked, a smirk still present on his face. He leaned forward a bit in the bed as his mock amusement suddenly fell away and a dangerous look came over his face. "Before what, Tempe?" he nodded at her. "By all means…go ahead and finish the threat. Because, I'm thinking maybe I misjudged you." He stopped, tilted his head at Brennan and then nodded, "Yeah, maybe I did. Maybe—huh. Well, maybe things just got a whole lot more interesting. Because, I gotta tell you, if I weren't in this hospital bed, you'd only get one shot before I showed you how rough the rough stuff can get. But, if a dirty and cheap whore like you is into that, then it might make things even interesting than I'd originally thought they'd be—"

However, as Jared continued his words, suddenly it wasn't Brennan who he had to be intimidated by as the door to his hospital room was thrown open and a furious Seeley Booth stormed in and stalked to toward his brother's hospital bed.

In what would be one of the most dangerous moods Brennan had _ever _seen Booth in as he walked up to his brother's bed, grabbed Jared by the throat, and pulled him up so that they were face-to-face—for a split second, Brennan felt fear. Now, she didn't feel that fear because she was afraid for Jared, but she was scared for her husband, because of the rage she saw in Booth's face.

_Oh, God_, she thought. _How much did he hear? Oh, God, Booth_—_don't kill him. Not because he doesn't deserve it, but because he's your brother, and you'll punish yourself for the rest of your life with guilt if you kill him…_

"Booth!" she cried out as she realized that Booth had a murderous glint in his eye.

"You son-of-a-bitch," Booth growled into his brother's ears, ignoring Brennan's cry. "You stupid, sorry, selfish son-of-a-bitch."

"Ahhh," Jared laughed evilly at Booth's words. "Now, the party's complete. I was wondering when you'd show up, Seel." He paused for breath before he added with a smirk, "Perfect timing, as usual. We were just discussing your bad taste in women, which, not to sound too much of an expert on the subject, I do feel I've come to know about pretty well. I mean, some of the things I could tell you that I've found out in just the past year. Of course...well, I do need to let you in on some of those more pertinent details, but how about we start with what's right in front of us, huh? Right, Tempe?" Jared said as he looked over at the forensic anthropologist. "Go on. Tell him." Brennan's face remained immovable in its stony response to Jared's words. With a sigh he rolled his eyes and said, "Fine. I guess I'll have to do it. But, then again, I always do, don't I, Seel? At least, I do when it comes to stupid, spoiled, shallow, dirty whores here, like Tempe is—"

Jared's last words were choked in an unintelligible grunt as his older brother's hands tightened around his windpipe.

"Shut your fucking mouth," Booth growled. "If you say another goddamn word about my wife like that, you're dead, Jared. I _will _kill you if you so much as look at her the wrong way, do you understand me, you piece of shit?"

Conflicted in what to do, Brennan's decision was finally made when Jared began to turn a slight shade of purple and the machines to which he was hooked up started to buzz and beep like crazy as he struggled for air. Moving quickly to close the distance between them, Brennan came up behind her husband and placed a gently hand on the arm that held Jared's throat tight in its grasp.

"Booth—" she said, her voice low and gentle—a tone she only ever used with him.

At the tone of her voice, a bit of the madness that had consumed Booth started to eek away as he turned from where he was staring into his brother's eyes with a look of pure, cold hatred. His irises darkened to a black that Brennan was unused to seeing outside of their bedroom—or, at the very least, when they were having sex—and it rattled her a bit. However, knowing that he needed her to be strong—and wise—for him, Brennan stayed the course as she nodded at him.

"Booth," she said his name again. When her husband finally looked away from Jared and met her gaze, she nodded slightly as she said, "He's not worth it."

And, as if she'd given him a direct order, Booth's iron-tight grip of Jared's neck suddenly realized as he fell back down into his bed, gasping for air. Booth, now apparently in shock over his actions, looked at his hand in a strange way before he turned to Brennan, a question clearly writ all over his face, although Brennan wasn't sure which question it was exactly.

"Bones?" he asked softly.

Reaching out to take the hand, to reassure him that she wasn't afraid of him—and never could be—she intertwined her fingers with his and said, "We're done here."

He stared at her, not really comprehending her words for several pertinent seconds, and that gave Brennan precious time to guide him towards the door. However, Booth quickly recovered, and stopped their movement towards the door.

Nodding at her, he tried to reassure her with a calm look. _I'm okay, Bones…but there's something I need to say before we leave. _

His soft gaze toward her than instantaneously disappeared as Booth's face hardened, and he used his free hand to point in the direction of his brother's bed.

"Jared," he said, grunting the single word as if it were the most hateful and taboo of curses.

His brother, still coughing and rubbing his neck where Booth had grasped him so tightly, merely raised a single blurry eye from where he lay on his bed in the direction in which his older brother stood.

Knowing that he had Jared's attention, Booth punctuated his words with a jab of his index finger. "I'm only going to say this one time. You're dead to me. I no longer have a brother. And, if you so much as look at Bones the wrong way ever again, you're a dead man. In case the little detail escaped what's left of your alcohol riddled brain when you saw Mom's ring on her finger, she's_ my wife_, you stupid, stupid fuck. She's my wife, and I love her, and I would kill just to see that she was happy. So, you can imagine how happy I'd be if you gave me a reason to finally end the miserable life of a fuckwad like you once and for all…all I need you to do is give me a reason." He stopped and lowered his hand as he repeated his threat. "Do you understand? Come near her again, and _I will kill you_—"

At Booth's words, the door to Jared's hospital room suddenly burst open as a doctor and two nurses finally appeared to see what the problem with their patient's machine. One of them recognized Booth, and said, "Agent Booth? What happened?"

"Ask him," Booth said, not quite certain how much the nurses or the doctor had heard. He then inclined his head as he said, "We're done here…and we won't be back."

Taking a step towards, Brennan, their hands still clasped, Booth jerked open the door and stepped away from his brother for the last time. He didn't even have to look back to know that Brennan was following him as the medical staff attended to Jared—who merely watched his brother and new sister-in-law leave with a murderous glint of his own clearly shining in his eyes.

* * *

><p>-<span>TBC<span>-

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note<span>—Okay, so I think I've said this before in the context of not getting the pitchforks and such ready to skewer Booth before, and now, I think the same courtesy to hold back is due for Brennan—especially since Jared hit her pretty hard with those claims of his, huh? So, the question now is…what really happened? Who did what with whom, when, where, and why? And, secondly, who in the hell was on that phone call with Booth? The good news is that this story is now on the downside of the mountain since we're officially past the half-way point. More answers than questions will now be offered, so hang in there a bit more as we start to see just what exactly was happening really. And, in the meantime, if you're thoroughly confused and don't know what in the hell is actually going on—that's okay. You're probably supposed to feel that way by the design of the story. However, I will say that two or three of you who left reviews actually have managed to nail one plot truism. I won't say which, but I'm sure you know who you are. Future guesses are not only welcomed, but encouraged. So—want me to get to answering some of these unanswered questions that have been keeping people in suspense? Well, then do your thing by clicking on that 'review' button below, and I'll do mine in the not too distant future. Until then, enjoy!~


	8. Ch 7: Unanticipated Losses

Revisiting a Big Mistake

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Mixing sex and alcohol can have disastrous consequences, especially when a face from the past returns with a secret that threatens Booth and Brennan's new relationship and recent marriage. Set post-"Blackout in the Blizzard." Very AU.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 7 – Unanticipated Losses<span>

* * *

><p>Less than twenty-four hours after Booth had disavowed and disowned Jared, the forensic anthropologist and her FBI agent partner were sitting in his Toyota Sequoia SUV in front of the Jeffersonian Institute. Booth put the SUV into park and then looked over at Brennan as she unbuckled her seat belt and moved to gather her belongings.<p>

"Hey," he said as he reached over and lightly placed a hand on her thigh.

At the intimate gesture, Brennan stopped shifting and turned to look over at her husband.

"You okay?" he asked.

Tilting her head at him, she asked, "Shouldn't that be my line?"

A small smile played on the edge of his lips as he said, "I'm okay."

"You're sure?" Brennan replied. "Because, if you find that you need to spend more time dealing with the fallout of the events of the last few days, and I can support you in that endeavor in any way, I can wait to return to my duties at the lab."

"No," Booth said, shaking his head. "That's okay, Bones. I'm good."

Reaching out, Brennan lightly placed her hand over his where it lay on top of her thigh. Using her thumb. she lightly stroked the rough skin of his hand. "Are you certain?"

Leaning over, Booth placed a light kiss on her lips. "Well, okay, you got me," he reluctantly admitted. "I guess it's better to say that I'm as okay as I can be with everything that's happened. I mean, it's a lot to deal with."

"It is," she concurred.

Booth stared at her for a few second, paused, and then added, "Besides, I can't put this off for much longer. Hell, I don't want to put this off any longer than I already have—I hate the idea that it's already had this much control over our lives."

"I-I..I could come with you this afternoon," Brennan said, her voice tentative. "That is, if you want me there."

"I know you would," Booth smiled at her. "And, I love you for that…but, however this turns out, it's because of my doing, Bones. So, it's time I stood up and faced the music, and I don't want you to have to suffer any more than you already have because of what I did or didn't do."

"I know that, Booth," Brennan said. "And _I _love _you _for that…but, remember—that's what husbands and wives do, right? They stick together and support one another…for better or worse, correct? Weren't those what we agreed to...the terms of our vows, I believe?"

"For better or worse," he nodded, holding her gaze for a few seconds. "But, even still—as much as I love the fact that you want to be there for me…whatever comes after, for this first step, I need to do it alone, Bones. I've got a performance review for some of my detail members this morning, but I'd planned to go see her this afternoon."

"Dr. Saroyan said she should have the results of the second DNA test by then," Brennan said, her voice more vulnerable in that minute than it usually was. "At the very least, I'll call you with the results as soon as she brings them to me. That way, we'll both know at the same time."

"Okay," Booth said, reaching over and giving her hand a light squeeze. "And, Bones?"

"Yes, Booth?"

"You know," he nodded at her. "You know, whatever the results say—well, we'll get through it…one way or another, right?"

"Of course," Brennan nodded. "No matter what the test results say, we'll handle the situation accordingly."

As she gave his hand a lightly reassuring squeeze of her own before she let it drop, and Brennan moved to finish gathering her belongings before she exited the SUV, she said, "Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"Are you certain that you're not upset with me?" Brennan asked, leveling her clear gaze at his. "I mean, in a way, I acted fairly preemptively in going to see Hannah and arranging for the second DNA test without talking to you first."

Sighing slightly, Booth slowly nodded as he said, "I'm not gonna lie to you, Bones. I do wish that you had told me _before _you went that that's what you were going to do. But, I understand that you did it because you thought it was what you had to do and you did what you had to do to protect your family. You didn't do anything less than what I would've done in your same position, so, no, I'm not upset with you."

"Okay," she said giving him a nod. "If you're sure."

"I am," he responded.

Reaching for the passenger door handle, Brennan gave him another nod before she moved to get out of the car. However, she was stopped when she suddenly felt Booth's hand on her arm.

"Bones?" he asked quietly.

Turning to face him, Brennan replied, "Yes, Booth?"

"I love you," he said quietly. "No matter what happens, you know that, right?"

This time, giving him a truly radiant smile, Brennan nodded as she turned and leaned back towards him. And, before she lifted her lips to his, she said quietly, "Always."

* * *

><p>Several hours later, after what seemed like an inordinately long time that was excruciating as Brennan waited for lunch time to come and go, Brennan found herself in the Bones Room at the Medico-Legal Lab, hunched over the examination table, staring at a set of remains from Limbo. She was deep into her analysis when a familiar <em>clip-clack <em>of sharp heels got her immediate attention. As soon as she saw Dr. Camille Saroyan standing in front of her, holding a goldenrod envelope, Brennan felt a twisting pain in the pit of her stomach as she realized the time she'd been waiting for since Booth had told her of Hannah's would-be news had at last arrived—and the anxiety was almost enough to make her nauseous.

A bit of her color faded when Cam walked into the Bone Room, and she looked at the forensic anthropologist. Brennan quickly looked down at the set of remains she was working with, her hands shaking a bit in a way that the forensic pathologist had never seen before in all the time she'd known Brennan.

When Brennan looked up at her, she said with a small tilt of her head, "I've got the results, Dr. Brennan."

Carefully setting down the vertebrae that she was holding in her unsteady hands, Brennan braced her empty hands against the edge of the table. In an uncharacteristic movement, Brennan closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, using the table to steady herself. However, after she had inhaled and exhaled three times, her eyes suddenly snapped open. Strong with emotion, she straightened her back and leveled a gaze at Cam as she nodded.

"All right," Brennan said.

Stepping forward, her high heels reverberating in the room with each step she took, Cam took the envelope and extended it to Brennan. "I'm not sure if it's good news or bad."

"Nevertheless," Brennan said as she nodded at Cam. "Thank you for expediting the test results for me. Booth and I are extremely grateful."

"It's nothing, Dr. Brennan," Cam said with a shrug. "I just wish—"

Taking the proffered envelope, Brennan nodded at Cam as she asked, "Do you know what it says?"

"Yes," Cam replied, her tone heavy and weighted with concern. "I wanted to run the test myself to make sure there were no issues—no anomalies with the results. I wanted to make sure that you and Booth had all the information you needed from a trusted…uncompromised source."

"We appreciate your efforts on our behalf," Brennan said with a nod.

"Of course," Cam said. She paused as she watched Brennan stare at the envelope for a few more seconds. Her voice a bit softer than normal, Cam then finally asked, "Do you want me to leave you alone so you can read the results?"

"No," Brennan said as her head snapped up, and she met Cam's warm brown eyes. "That not necessary—and not really logical since you already know what the results said. I just…I just need to stop being afraid read what the damn thing says."

Looking down at the envelope, Brennan blinked at it once, took a breath, and then used her index finger to run underneath the underside of the envelope's flap. Receiving a paper cut in the process, Brennan immediately cursed as she brought her hurt finger to her mouth. Sucking on the injured fingertip to try to soothe the sting of the cut, she shook her head as she muttered, "Damn."

However, not one to let a little thing like a paper cut keep her from learning information that might have life changing ramifications for her family, Brennan firmly took the envelope and took out the single sheet of paper that it contained. Lifting it out, she gave it a sharp snap to unfold the tri-folded piece of paper. Her eyes quickly glancing over the results, as she read the DNA results, they widened as her mouth took on a distinctive o-shape as a look of complete shock registered on her face.

* * *

><p>Sighing dejectedly as he turned what was becoming a very familiar corner in Georgetown Memorial Hospital, Booth walked with a heavy heart and step in the direction of Hannah Burley's O.B. room.<p>

_Man, _Booth thought. _I really don't want to be here. I don't want to be here, and I don't want to do this…and, God_—_what if this is just the beginning? What if this is the start of the next eighteen years of having to deal with Hannah? God, Almighty_—_this is so fucked up. How_—_how__ did I manage to fuck up __this__ badly? And, God_—_Bones. Man, she must really love me if she's willing to put up with all this shit…I just_—_God…Hannah and…a baby? Us? We're having a baby. How_—_how do I handle this? She's going to be the mother of my child_—_I did what I swore I'd never do again. I'm bringing another child into this world with a woman who I don't love anymore…with a woman who probably never loved me in that way. I swore I'd never be in this position again, and_—_yet, here I am_—_all over again. It's like_—_even after everything that happened with Becks and Parker…I never learned a damn thing. God help me…God help us all._

Knowing that he'd put off the timing of his visit long enough, Booth did what duty demanded of him, and continued walking towards Hannah's hospital room. However, as he trudged his way along what had now become a familiar path, when he finally stood in front of the well-known door, he clenched his fists once as he let them cling at his sides, squeezed his eyes shut, took one breath, and tried to steel himself for the unpleasant task that lay in front of him. Letting the measured breath slowly escape through his closed teeth, he nodded to himself before he pressed forward. Giving one sharp rap on the door frame, he didn't wait to hear Hannah grant him entrance before he pressed forward.

In a way, it was probably a good thing that Booth hadn't waited for someone to call out in response to his knock or else he might've waited for quite a long time to hear a response because, when he entered, he found Hannah's room completely empty. Frowning, Booth wondered to where his ex-girlfriend might've disappeared.

_Okay, Hannah_—_where in the hell are you? _Booth wondered. _I really don't want to be here in the first place, so let's cut it out with the hide and seek, huh? Where are you? _Glancing around the room, Booth paused and sighed as he thought to himself, _Maybe they took her someplace for a test or something?_

However, as Booth actually processed the significance of what he'd seen in the room, a flash of annoyance came over him. Slowly turning around, he noticed that several of the personal items that had been there in the room on the last two visits he'd made were gone. The worn and faded crocheted blanket that had been top of the bed was no where to be seen. In fact, the neatly made hospital bed looked freshly made and untouched. Several of the bouquets that had been sent to Hannah by unknown individuals were also gone. In fact, there wasn't a single item visible that he could see that indicated that anyone had ever resided in the room.

Turning around, Booth quickly exited the hospital room and headed to the nearby nurse's station. When he finally reached it, he caught the eye of one of the young and perky nurses that seemed to be busy entering chart information onto her computer.

"Excuse me, miss?" Booth tried. Knowing that a smile often gotten him a lot further than either his badge or a brusque attitude in such situations, Booth attempted to be as charming as possible as he said, "Could you help me please?"

However, the nurse—somewhat harried from the end of the long shift that she was just completing seemed oblivious to the charm of Booth's demeanor. Sighing as she registered him as merely an interruption that delayed her from finishing her paperwork, she looked up and responded, "Yes, sir?"

"The woman who was in room 3244?" Booth asked. "She's not there now, so I'm wondering if maybe they moved her somewhere else?"

"And, you are?" the nurse said as she narrowed her gaze at Booth in a look of clear assessment.

"I'm—" Booth's voice trailed off as he was certain how to respond to the question. However, swallowing once, he immediately knew how he needed to responded even as he felt a tight knot in his throat get even tighter as he made the decision to give the answer he really should give in response to the question that the nurse had asked.

_I might as well get used to it, _Booth thought grimly. _I mean, I know Bones means well with insisting on the independent DNA test, but Hannah would have no reason to lie about something like this to me_—_she just wouldn't. So, as much as I'd like to believe it's not true, I know, deep down in my heart, it is. I'm that baby's father, and I need to do the right thing, and start acting like it. No matter what's happened between me and Hannah_—_or didn't happen, as the case may be_—_it's not his fault. So, I need to start doing right by that little guy, man up, and take responsibility for what I did that made it so that he's gonna be here in a few months to begin with…and, now's as good a time as any to get used to it, so…I'm gonna do whatever I have to do to do what I need to do to make his life perfect. And, that starts by admitting both to myself and the whole world that I'm his father. So, here goes nothing_.

"I'm…the father of her baby," he said, the words coming out of his mouth slowly at first, but as he continued to speak, they came out faster and with more firmness in his tone. "Hannah…she's—that is, the baby she's carrying…it's mine. And, I'm here to see her, but Hannah's not in her room—"

Moving the mouse she was using, the nurse clicked on several screens and said, "I can look her up in the computer, but unless you're on the authorized contact list, I'm afraid I can't tell you anything."

Booth stopped as he considered the nurse's words. _Am I on the authorized contact list_? he wondered. _I mean…she would've added me, right? _The nurse continued to look at him expectantly as she awaited his response. _Okay. I guess there's only one way to find out._

"Patient's name?" the nurse asked again with a slight sigh of impatience.

"Burley," Booth answered instantly. "Hannah Burley."

"B—?" The nurse asked.

"B-u-r-l-e-y," Booth spelled.

The nurse typed a few letters on the keyboard and then looked up at Booth.

"And, you are?"

"Booth—"

"Oh," she said, her demeanor suddenly changing as she interrupted him. "Oh, that's no problem. You're right here—"

"Seeley Booth," he continued over the woman's perky voice.

As soon as he'd finished telling the nurse his name, a slight look of confusion came over her face as she said, "I'm sorry. Can you say that again?"

"My name's Seeley Booth."

Her brow furrowing in obvious confusion, she said, "Booth? Right. That's right—"

"I know that," Booth said wryly, trying to maintain as patient a demeanor as possible as he nodded at her and attempted to avoid giving in to his great desire to roll his eyes at the nurse.

"But—" she said, shaking her head slight. "You said you're first name is, what—Seeley?"

"Yeah," Booth said, his impatience and frustration growing slightly, despite his best efforts, with each word she spoke. "Do you need me to spell it?"

"No," she said. "That's won't be necessary. It's just…you're sure your first name is Seeley?"

"All my life," he said, not sure why the nurse was suddenly acting so squirrely. _What in the hell's going on here?_

"And, is that a nickname or something?" she asked. "Or, maybe your middle name but your legal first name is something different—?"

"Uhhhh, no—" Booth said.

"But, that doesn't make any sense," the nurse said. "I'm not sure—"

"Look," Booth said. "While I appreciate your procedures, I'm sorta in a rush here, and I need to see Hannah. So, since you know I'm on the list, can you please tell me the number of her new room?"

"Ummmm," the nurse said with a shake of her head. "That's just it. I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid I can't."

"Why not?" Booth said, feeling his ire increase.

"Because—"

"Mr. Booth!" a hurried voice suddenly said. Booth turned around and felt some hope as he saw an older nurse that was vaguely familiar approaching him with a very sympathetic look on her face. It took Booth a few seconds to place her as one of the nurses with whom he'd conversed briefly during some of his visits to see Hannah over the past week.

Glancing at her ID as she came close, he greeted her with a nod. "Ahh, hello, Robin."

"How are you doing?" she said as she came up and gave Booth a warm hug, not waiting for his response as she pulled him into a firm and reassuring embrace. "How are things?"

Somewhat taken aback by the nurse's comforting stance, Booth said, "Ummmm, okay, I guess."

"Did we forget something?" she said as she pulled away from him. "I tried to triple check the room when we packed up Miss Hannah's belongings, but I guess if she sent you all the way back here at this difficult time that we must've forgotten something important."

Still not sure what she was talking about, Booth could only stare in confusion at the woman as she said, "Ummm…"

Shaking her head, she said with a comforting look in her grey eyes, "Don't you worry your handsome face off. You tell me whatever it is that's missing, and we'll find it just as quick as we can so that you can get back to be with Miss Hannah right now. I know it's got to be tearing you up being away from her even a second at such a difficult time like this—"

Stepping away from the older nurse's embrace, Booth said, "Wait a second."

"Yes?" she said, looking at him with a gaze of concern writ all over her face. "What is it, dear?"

"I'm sorry," Booth said. "But, what is it that you think that I'm here for? What's happened?"

The look of concern on the older nurse's face fell a bit as she said, "Wait. Didn't Hannah send you here?"

"No," Booth said, shaking his head. "That's just it. I was here to see her, but when I went to her room, she wasn't there. And, so I came to the nurse's station to see what her new room number is since I'm guessing that you guys moved her for some reason?"

"Then," Nurse Robin said, her face paling a bit as she look at Booth straight in the eyes. "You don't know what's happened, do you?"

"No," Booth said, some adrenaline flooding his system as he picked up on the change in the woman's body language. "I haven't talked to Hannah in a day or two," Booth said. "Not since early yesterday morning, I guess."

"Oh," the nurse said, wringing her hands as she said, "Oh, dear. Then, you don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" Booth suddenly snapped, his tone coming off a bit more hard than he'd intended.

Extending a hand to rest lightly on his shoulder, the older nurse said, "Maybe it's best that we sit down for a minute before I tell you."

"No," Booth said, shaking his hand. "Just tell me what's happened." Nurse Robin stared at him for a few seconds, gazing into this eyes as she seemed to be trying to figure out a way to tell him whatever news of which she thought he was unaware. "Please," he added. "Whatever it is—_just tell me_."

"Last night," she began. "Very late last night… Miss Hannah—well, she went into labor, Mr. Booth."

Booth felt his world spin slightly as it was now his turn to feel the color drain from his face as his knees wobbled. "But, it's too early," he finally managed. "The baby—the baby…it's too early for the baby."

"Oh, sweetie," she said, reaching out to give him a hand to steady him. "I know that."

"Where's Hannah?" Booth suddenly asked as he looked up at the older woman. "Where's the baby?"

"Mr. Booth—" she began in a tone that Booth knew all too well.

_I know that tone. That's the same tone I use when I'm giving family members bad news_, the thought flashed in Booth's mind. _Oh, God_—_what's happened?_

"Where is she?" Booth asked again. "Where's Hannah, and where's our baby? NICU?"

Slowly, the woman shook her head as she said in a very soft tone. "No, Mr. Booth. I'm not sure where Miss Hannah is right now, but your baby—"

"Where?" Booth asked, as his heart rate continued to increase and the pounding in his ears started to grow louder and louder. "Where is he?"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Booth," the nurse said, a sad look on her face as her grey eyes grew watery with emotion. "The baby…your child…it didn't make it."

"What do you mean?" Booth snapped, not comprehending the words even as she spoke them. "What do you mean it didn't make it?"

"The baby…your child, Mr. Booth," she said softly. "I'm so sorry to have to be the one to have to tell you this, so very_, __very _sorry, but—the baby Miss Hannah delivered last night…it was stillborn, Mr. Booth. It was stillborn."

* * *

><p>"Dr. Brennan?" Cam was asking as she watched her friend, colleague, and co-worker stare at the results of the DNA test she still held in her hands. "Dr. Brennan?"<p>

It wasn't until Cam had said her name for the fourth time and gently extended her hand to rest on the forensic anthropologist's arm and gave her a light shake, that Brennan came out of the daze that had settled over her as she read the results of the test.

"Dr. Brennan?" Cam asked again, her eyes full of worry as she lifted her brown ones to meet Brennan's blue ones. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes…" Brennan began, her words trailing off as soon as she had spoken them.

"Dr. Brennan?"

The sixth time that her name had been spoken in less than a minute, however, wasn't said by Cam again as a third person entered the Bone Room. A Jeffersonian security guard trailing just behind him, Brennan was surprised to see the familiar visage of DC Metro PD officer Alan Chessterton entering her sacred workspace.

Raising her eyes to meet his, Brennan tilted her head slightly in confusion as she said, "Officer Chessterton?"

"Dr. Brennan," he nodded at her by way of greeting.

"What are you doing here?" Brennan asked immediately, skipping even the limited formalities that she usually observed.

"I'm…uhh, I'm looking for Agent Booth," he said slowly.

"He's not here," Brennan told him instantly.

"Oh," Chessterton responded, his face falling a bit. "Well, you wouldn't happen to have any idea where I might be able to find him, do you? We're running short on time, and he's not answering his phone right now, and I _really_ need to talk to him."

"Why?" Brennan asked, some of her earlier daze at the hands of the DNA test evaporating in light of Chessterton's arrival and subsequent questions about her husband. "What is it?"

"I, uhh, would really prefer to speak with Booth about that myself," he began, his tone a bit nervous and clearly hesitant.

"If this is about his brother," Brennan replied, a sharp frown coming onto her face. "I know with 100% certitude that Booth doesn't want to have anything to do with Jared, Officer."

"Well, be that as it may," Chessterton said. "Even if he weren't listed as next of kin, there's still a lot of stuff that Booth's going to have to deal with, and—"

"Why?" Brennan asked. "What happened to Jared now that could possibly persuade Booth to have anything further to do with him?" She stopped and shook her head as she said, "I'm quite certain you're unaware of this particular detail, Officer Chessterton, but Booth and Jared had quite a nasty argument yesterday, and Booth disavowed his brother. As far as he's concerned, metaphorically, he doesn't have a brother anymore."

"That's just it," Chessterton said, his face and tone grim. "There's nothing metaphoric about it anymore, and that's why I need to talk to Booth before—"

"Wait," Brennan said her gaze snapping up to look at Chessterton as she once more cut him off. "What do you mean there's nothing metaphoric about the statement that Booth doesn't have a brother anymore?"

"Because," Chessterton said. "As of about fourteen hours ago, Booth doesn't have a brother anymore."

"Meaning?" Cam said, suddenly inserting herself into the conversation as she saw her distracted friend struggle to get across the exact meaning of her question for the older police officer. "What is it that you mean exactly, Officer Chessterton?"

Turning to look at Cam, for some reason, be it her demeanor or the fact that Brennan hadn't silenced her, Chessterton took it as a sign that her question wasn't one to be ignored. "Well, ma'am," he said with a stiff nod. "What I mean is that the reason Booth literally doesn't have a brother anymore is because Jared Booth was found in a pool of his own blood last night."

The sharp intake of breath that happened as both women felt a wave of shock wash over them left little room for Chessterton to believe they hadn't grasped the full meaning of his words. However, just so that'd there'd be no mistakes, he turned to Brennan and said softly, "He's dead."

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note<span>— ::cue the even more ominous music:: I don't think I've ever had a chapter with two technical cliffhangers, so this may be a record even for me. Want to know what happens next? Well, then, you know what to do. ::stares and points at the review button below:: It's a scientific fact. Writers write and post chapters of fanfic more quickly when they get more reviews, so…umm…yeah. Just keep that in mind as you consider whether to share your thoughts on this chapter with me or not. Coming up next—Booth finds out about his brother's death and both B&B find out a couple of _very _interesting things about Hannah…so stay tuned!~


	9. Ch 8: An Unexpected Reappearance

Revisiting a Big Mistake

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: stares:: ::blinks:: ::stares again:: Yeah. I still don't own anything…but, you knew that from the stares, right?

Summary: Mixing sex and alcohol can have disastrous consequences, especially when a face from the past returns with a secret that threatens Booth and Brennan's new relationship and recent marriage. Set post-"Blackout in the Blizzard." Very AU.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 8 – An Unexpected Reappearance<span>

* * *

><p>Brennan stared at the expectant eyes of DC Metro Police Officer Alan Chessterton. It took her a few precious seconds to make sense of what he'd just said.<p>

_Jared is dead. _The thought ricocheted in her mind like some stray bullet that had yet to find a target in which it could embed itself. _Jared is dead_. _Booth's little brother_—_Jared…he's dead. Jared is dead. Oh, God_—_Booth…_

Lifting her confused blue eyes to meet the older man's, Brennan asked, a slight tremble in her voice barely audible as she aside, "Are you certain?"

"Yeah," Chessterton nodded slowly. "I got a tip from one of my friends in Homicide. Jared was found in a pool of his own blood with blunt trauma to his skull."

"When?" Brennan asked. "And, under what circumstances? I need you to brief me on all the information you have so that I can be prepared to assist in the investigation—"

"Dr. Brennan," Chessterton said with a shake of his head. "I'm not here to solicit your assistance with the murder investigation."

"Then, why are you here?" she asked, her eyes wide as she waited for an appropriate explanation.

"Because," he nodded at her. "Like I said, I need to find Booth. ASAP."

"Why?" Brennan asked. "To inform him, as Jared's next of kin, that his brother is deceased?"

"No," Chessterton said. "I…I was looking for Booth to give him a heads up."

"Heads up?" Brennan responded. "About what?"

"About the fact that two DCPD homicide detectives are trying to find him to bring him in for questioning about his brother's death," Chessterton said. "Look, Booth's been a real friend to me for a lotta years, and I wouldn't want him to get blindsided with all this stuff, especially considering that it has to do with his brother."

Tilting her head at him, Brennan inquired, "But, I don't understand. What is it that you think might…what did you say? Blindside? What do you think might blindside, Booth?"

"Because," Chesserton said with a shake of his head. "Look, we're wasting a lot of time that we don't have. I promise—I'll explain everything later, but I just need to know where Booth is right now before the homicide detectives find him—"

"Homicide detectives?" Brennan asked, her face growing pale at his words. "What would homicide detectives want to talk to Booth?"

"Because," Chessterton said with a slight wince. "That's what I've been trying to tell you, Dr. Brennan. A couple of nurses heard Booth threaten his brother a couple of days ago, and now that he's turned up dead, well—they want to question Booth as a person of interest in his brother's murder."

"Oh, God—" Brennan muttered. "No—"

* * *

><p>Booth, still reeling from the news that Hannah had given birth, the child had been stillborn, and that she was now nowhere to bed found, could only act on autopilot as he left the hospital and found himself driving in the direction of the Hoover Building. After he parked the car and headed for one of the building's side entrances, it was a testament as to how much in shock he still was when he didn't notice the sudden appearance of two individuals—an older woman with silver blonde hair and a younger man with dark auburn coloring—as they'd apparently been waiting for him.<p>

Nodding, the older woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a badge and ID.

"Seeley Booth?" she asked.

Stopping, Booth recognized a law enforcement tone of voice when he heard one. Looking at the woman, Booth slowly nodded. "Yeah?"

"My name is Detective Sharon Carlson, DCPD, and this is my partner, Detective Tal Reinacher," the older woman said with a gesture in the general vicinity of the younger man's direction.

"Detectives," Booth said with a nod of his head. "What can I do for you?"

"You have a few minutes?" Carlson asked. "We need to talk to you about your brother."

"Jared?" Booth asked, a touch of the surprise he felt at the mention of his younger brother's name coming into his voice as he spoke. "What about him?"

"When was the last time you saw him?" Carlson asked.

Shrugging, Booth said, "I don't know…a couple of days probably."

"That wouldn't be when you were at Georgetown Memorial Hospital now, would it?" Reinacher suddenly asked.

Turning to face the younger man, Booth slowly nodded, "I suppose so."

"That wouldn't also be the same night—" the younger man stopped, reached in his pocket, withdrew a small spiral notebook, and read from it, "you said, and I quote 'Do you understand? Come near her again, and _I will kill you_'." He stopped and looked up from where he was reading and sought out Booth's eyes. "You did say that, didn't you Mr. Booth?"

"Agent Booth," he said, a bit testily as he corrected the younger man. "And, yeah, so what…maybe I did say something like that in anger to Jared. So, what? We've been talking trash for years, because we're brothers, and that's what guys like us from Philly do."

"And, do guys from Philly like you also follow through on those threats?" Reinacher asked, clearly unimpressed with Booth's posturing.

"What?" Booth asked. "Of course not."

"Agent Booth," Carlson said, her voice a bit softer as she took a step towards him, angling her body so that the distance between he and Reinacher was closed. "Can you tell me where you were yesterday between the hours of seven and eleven AM?"

"Why?" Booth asked. Looking at the older woman, he nodded, "If you want me to show you mine, you show me yours. What in the hell is this all about?"

Holding his intense gaze with her own sharp green eyes, Carlson waited a few seconds before she slowly nodded. "I'm sorry to have to be the one to inform you of this, Agent Booth," Carlson said. "But, your brother, Jared Booth, was found dead under highly suspicious circumstances, and based on interviews with various hospital personnel who indicated that you were among the last people to see Jared alive—"

"You think that I killed him," Booth said slowly, starting to feel as if his world were starting to splinter into a million little pieces. "My little brother is dead…and you think I killed him?"

Nodding at him, Carlson said, "We really need to talk, Agent Booth, and I'd prefer not to have to put the cuffs on you here—"

Slowly, Booth blinked at her once and nodded as Carlson gestured to him to join them in their car.

* * *

><p>Several hours later, Brennan stood outside the door of one of the many observation rooms housed by the main district office of the DCPD on M Street that was within a mile of both the Hoover and the Jeffersonian. Her arms crossed, Brennan stared in distracted annoyance at the window through which she could see Booth sitting at the sole table that dominated the architecture of the room. At the moment, Booth was currently alone, Brennan ached to go to him. However, she knew she had a job she needed to do first. A short time later, when she finally saw a familiar face coming towards her, she smiled in obvious relief.<p>

Extending her hand, she nodded and said, "Mr. Barron."

"Dr. Brennan," David Barron nodded at her. The tall African-American was flanked in fairly short order by a very familiar and pushy presence.

"Now," the well-known southern twang of Caroline Julian's voice interrupted the pair. "There's plenty of time for pleasantries later, cher. Let's cut to the chase, shall we?"

Turning around, Barron gave her a small shrug as he said, "Caroline, you aren't even supposed to be here."

"Why not?" she said, jabbing a finger into his shoulder. "I'm here as a concerned friend of the family."

Barron knew he would get into more trouble than it was probably worth if he pressed the issue and so he merely pointed back at her and said, "Federal prosecutor."

Shaking her head, she smiled sweetly at him and said, "Private citizen come to help her dear, dear friends in their time of need."

Looking at Brennan, Caroline then asked sharply, "How is he?"

"I don't know," Brennan said with a shake of her head. "They won't let me in to talk to him."

Caroline's eyes rolled over from Brennan's to Barron's as she said, "All right, cher. It's time for you to go do that wonderfully annoying thing that you do and go make it so that the good doctor here can see her one and only."

Barron turned to look at Brennan and said, "It's going to be hard getting permission for you to see him alone, even if he's you're partner."

"Then, I suppose it's a good thing that I'm his wife," Brennan said. "That does help in establishing affinity doesn't it?"

"Well, yes," Barron nodded, his rich baritone voice rumbling slightly, clear that her words had surprised him. "Of course, it does. I just didn't think that you two would ever—"

"We haven't been married that long," Brennan said as she lifted her hand and flashed her ring, almost as Booth did his badge, at the lawyer. As she did so, and the light caught hold of the diamond's sparkle, Brennan couldn't help herself as she smiled. "Only for a few weeks—and it's not really common knowledge yet."

Grumbling came from the form of Caroline as she wagged her finger at the forensic anthropologist. "And, don't think I'm still not sore at you two. But—" She stopped suddenly and turned to face Barron as she said, "Enough's enough. Come on, now. Go do that wonderful thing you do that nets me my alimony each month and make it so the good doctor here can see her best beloved."

Again, Barron bit back a sharp retort, merely giving Caroline a hard stare, before he turned to Brennan and said, "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

><p>Not long after Barron disappeared, a uniformed police officer came and escorted Brennan inside the observation room. Caroline, a very pleased look on her face at the obvious fruits of her ex-husband's efforts, nodded at Brennan and said, "Be careful what you say, cher. Remember the room isn't secure."<p>

"I've assisted in enough suspect interrogations over the years to know that, Caroline," Brennan said as she made a face.

"All right, then, off you go," Caroline said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

As soon as Brennan entered the room, Booth's eyes darted over and light up as soon as he saw her. Up and out of the chair in a flash, his arms were tightly around her in a millisecond as he pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Hey," she murmured into his ears.

"Hey, yourself," he greeted her. Pulling back, a genuine smile on his face, Booth cupped her jaw and used his thumb to stroke her cheek as he said, "Not that I'm not stoked to see you, but what are you doing here, Bones?"

"After you called," she told him, "I immediately phoned David Barron and retained him as legal counsel for you."

"I haven't been charged with anything yet, though, Bones," he said. "So far, all they want is to just talk to me about Jared."

"I know," Brennan responded. "But, until we figure out what's really going on here, I thought it better to be overtly cautious than too optimistic."

"That's my girl," Booth said with a grin. He continued to stroke her cheek lightly before he said, "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," she nodded. "What about you?"

"I-I…I'm still in shock," he said after a few seconds. "A lot's happened today, Bones—and I haven't even told you the half of it."

Slowly, Brennan raised a finger to her husband's lips. With a small shake of her head, she said, "Not now." She stopped and then gestured with a small shake of her head, "Caroline said to remember to tell you that the room isn't necessarily secure."

"Caroline?" Booth said as Brennan's finger dropped from his lips. Wincing slightly, he asked, "Don't tell me she's all mixed up in this already?"

"Only as a 'private citizen and friend of the family'," Brennan said with a smile.

Giving her a knowing look, Booth shook his head as he said, "Yeah, right."

Trying to keep her smile from getting larger, Brennan swallowed once. Amused by her own response, Booth shook his head slightly. About to speak, Brennan opened her mouth and had just uttered a single syllable when a sharp knock came on the observation room door followed by a very familiar red head sticking through the entrance.

"Uhhh, Dr. B?" Dr. Jack Hodgins said, as his eyes hurriedly scanned the room. When they fell on Booth still holding Brennan lightly in his arms, they widened with an appreciative smile. "Oh, hey there, G-man."

"Hodgins," Booth nodded in acknowledgement at the interruption. "What's up?"

"Ahh, right," Hodgins responded with a nod. "Sorry to interrupt, and I need to make this quick because Caroline said she could only get me a minute or two without that two-pump chump that they had guarding the door here, but, well—there's someone out here, Dr. B, that both Angela and I really think you need to talk to—"

"But," Brennan protested, her eyes going back and forth between those of the entomologist and her husband. "I just got in to finally see Booth—"

"And, I wouldn't interrupt you guys for all the tea in China. But, after you left the lab, Dr. B, a visitor came looking for you, and after she talked to Angela and me and told us why she was wanted to talk to you—well, let's just say that we both agreed that you _really_ need to talk to her," Hodgins said.

"Where is she?" Brennan asked with a heavy sigh.

Nodding his head towards the exit, "Just outside the precinct."

Turning her head back to Booth, Brennan asked, "Booth?"

"Go," he said with a nod of his head. Gesturing at the room in front of them, he shrugged as he said, "It's not like I'm going anywhere any time soon anyway."

"You're certain?" Brennan asked. "I don't want to leave you."

"You're not," Booth told her with a smile. "You're just walking a hundred feet in the opposite direction, and you'll be back—"

"Of course," Brennan said.

"Then, go," he said with a wave of his hand. "Go see what's got Angela and the Bugman's panties in a bunch."

"You're sure?" she asked again.

Nodding once more, Booth said, "Yeah, I'm certain. Go."

"Excellent, G-man," Hodgins smiled. "Trust me, you won't regret this. Dr. B, we're ready whenever you are." The head then promptly vanished.

With one final look at him, Brennan gave him a quick peck on the cheek before she said, "I'll be right back." And, with those words, she followed in the direction in which Hodgins' head had disappeared.

Walking outside of the precinct, the bright light of the late afternoon's lingering sun pierced Brennan's delicate blue rises as soon as she stepped outside. Cursing not having her sunglasses, raised her hand to her forehead to shield her eyes. A few feet out into the parking lot, standing just underneath the shade of small cherry blossom tree, Angela was waiting with a very familiar woman.

Her eyes narrowing as she contemplated what she was seeing, it wasn't until Hodgins nodded at her and spoke that there was no doubt that the familiar brunette's reappearance wasn't coincidence. "Dr. B, over here," Hodgins called.

Quickly closing the distance in between them, Brennan couldn't help herself as she crossed her arms and nodded by way of greeting at Angela.

"Hey, sweetie," Angela said. "How are you doing?"

"I'm as well as can be expected given the fact that my husband is about to be arrested for his brother's murder," Brennan said. Turning to the other woman, Brennan nodded and said, "Now, what are you doing here?"

"Listen, Bren," Angela nodded at her. "You know I would never impose on you at a time like this, but I really, _really _think that you need to hear what she has to say."

"Has he been arrested yet?" the third voice asked, interrupting Brennan's exchange with Angela. "Have they arrested Seeley?"

"Not yet, Dr. Bryar," Brennan said with a firm shake of her head. "But, we have every reason to believe that he will be."

"He didn't do it," Bryar said, taking a step towards Brennan. Placing her hand lightly on Brennan's arm, she said with a small shake of her head, "I know he didn't do it."

"As do I," Brennan said. "He has no motive and had no opportunity to kill Jared. Now, I'm not sure who did—"

"But, I do," Bryar said. "That's why I came to the lab to look for you earlier." She stopped, sighed, and then said, "Everything's happened so fast. I tried to tell Seeley that earlier, but he got so angry the last time we talked."

Staring at where Bryar was still lightly touching her arm, Brennan shot her a deadly serious look.

Sheepishly, Bryar quickly drew it away and muttered, "Sorry."

"Now," Brennan said, once Bryar had removed her hand from her arm. "Obviously, during our last conversation, you weren't as forthcoming as you might've been about the conversation you had with my husband."

"No," Bryar said slowly. "I wasn't."

"Why?" Brennan asked, leveling her piercing blue eyes at the marine biologist, and the level of coldness that seemed to have hardened them into ice chips in just a few seconds slightly shook the other scientist. "Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't lie to you," Bryar said. "Everything I told you was true…I just—I just left out a few of the more pertinent details."

"Such as?" Brennan said, some of the anger and frustration that had been building over the series of events that had dominated their lives since the morning they'd first received the call about Jared's DUI starting to boil through to the surface. "Because, unless you have something to tell me that has to do with my husband, his brother's murder, the slut of an ex-girlfriend that's Hannah Burley, or her bastard child that wasn't fathered by Booth, I don't really want to listen to it right now, Dr. Bryar."

"Bren," Angela said with a gentle nod. "Please, listen to her."

"Why, Ange?" Brennan suddenly snapped. "Why should I when—"

"Because," Bryar said, gathering some of her courage as she straightened her shoulders and took a step closer to Brennan. "Like I said, I know a lot more about what's going on here than you do, Dr. Brennan. And, as someone who honestly and truly cares about Seeley, I want to help make certain that he doesn't go to jail for a crime he didn't commit."

"And, what can you possibly know about what's happened recently that makes you think you can help us in any way whatsoever?" Brennan asked, focusing her hard stare once more on Bryar.

"Because," Bryar said softly. "I know Seeley didn't kill Jared."

"How?" Brennan pressed. "How do you possibly know that?"

"Because, I know who really killed Jared, and it most definitely wasn't Seeley—not at all," Bryar said, tilting her head to meet Brennan's piercing look. "Now, do you want to hear what I have to say or what?"

* * *

><p><span>-TBC-<span>

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note<span>— A few more pieces of the puzzle are now out there for people to start to put together. The question is…what does the good Dr. Catherine Bryar have to say to Brennan? Is Booth going to really be arrested for his brother's murder? And, where in the hell is Hannah? These, and many other interesting answers, are coming to a new chapter update soon…just how soon depends on your responses. So, do that wonderful thing that you all know how to do, click that little shiny blue button below, and let me know what you think. Muchas Gracias in advance! :)~


End file.
